Fire
by sneetchstar
Summary: AU Arthur & Gwen, set in present day.  Adult content
1. Chapter 1

There is a fire at an office building downtown. Not a huge fire, but the fire department is summoned, and the usual crowd forms. The fire is extinguished easily, and as Arthur packs the gear into the truck, he takes a moment to look around. He takes his helmet off, wiping his sweaty forehead with his arm, freeing the damp blonde hair that has plastered itself there. It is midday, so most of the onlookers are senior citizens and businesspeople on their lunch hours, most of them frowning at the inconvenience caused by the trucks.

The library is across the street. Slight motion in the large floor-to-ceiling windows on the side catches his eye, and he turns his head to see a petite form looking out. She is standing and watching, one hand against the glass, the other toying with what looks like a necklace. Inexplicably intrigued, he steps forward, peering, trying to get a better look through the glare on the glass. Her skin appears dusky, latte-colored, and her hair is either up or short. She is wearing a figure-hugging skirt that comes just to her knees and her calves are shapely.

"Arthur?"

He turns. "Huh?" It's Merlin, one of the emergency medical technicians. He is also Arthur's best friend.

"You expecting that hose to coil itself?"

"Oh, yes," he says absently. He steals one last glance in the direction of the library. She's gone.

"Cute, huh?" Merlin laughs, having seen the cause of his friend's distraction.

"I'm not sure. Possibly," he says, winding up the hose into the truck's side compartment.

"I thought you liked blondes."

"Normally I do. She just… intrigued me."

"They always 'intrigue' you. Until you get bored," he says, clapping him on the shoulder and walking back to the ambulance, chuckling.

"Hey, Merl?" he calls.

"Yeah?"

"We still going out to Excalibur tomorrow night?"

"Sure. Your turn to drive."

"Damn. Pick you up at eight, then."

At the club, Arthur is lamenting over his bottle of water. _Probably better I don't get wasted tonight anyway,_ he thinks. He's been in a bit of a funk these past few weeks.

"What is your problem, anyway?" Merlin puts his bottle down on the table with a thud. Some suds spill out the top of the bottle and land on the table.

"I'm bored," Arthur tells him, "bored with this scene. Bored with…"

"…women?" Merlin suggests.

"No. Girls," he clarifies. "A _woman_ would be most welcome. I just know this isn't the place to find one."

Merlin looks around, seeing nothing but sweet young things, barely dressed, mostly wobbly. He twists his mouth to the side. "Good point."

"Why did we want to check this place out again? Remind me, because so far, I'm…" he trails off, as he spies something through a break in the crowd. Or he thinks he spies something. Someone. _No. Way._

"Arthur?" Merlin pokes him on the shoulder.

"It's her," he whispers to Merlin, leaning in.

"Her who?" Merlin whispers back. "Why are we whispering?"

"From the library. I'm almost positive."

"Where?"

"Over there," he points surreptitiously. "Don't look!"

"Well, how am I supposed to see if I don't look?"

"I don't know, be casual."

Merlin leans back in his chair and pretends to stretch, looking around. He spots her, he thinks, and straightens back out. "Over there, in the purple shirt? With the pale brunette?"

Arthur peeks again. He hadn't noticed that she was with someone. She catches him looking, and he quickly ducks his head, pretending to read the label on his bottle. "Yes," he confirms to Merlin, having seen her companion, a woman of striking beauty with porcelain skin and raven hair.

It has to be her. It _has_ to. Someone approaches their table, asking her a question. She declines whatever was asked, putting her hand out, palm forward. Same shape, same long tapered fingers as the hand he saw pressed against the glass.

"What's the big deal with her, anyway?" Merlin asks.

Arthur thinks. "I don't know. Like you said, she's not my normal type. I just feel… drawn to her. Something pulling me," he pauses, noting the expression on his buddy's face. "You think I've gone bonkers, haven't you?"

"No, no! I've just never seen you like this. You know: thoughtful. I'm trying to get used to it."

Arthur flicks him on the ear for the remark, and sneaks another glance across the club.

"Go talk to her, Dollop-head," Merlin tells him. "Introduce yourself. Buy her a drink."

"You think I should?" Arthur asks.

"It's better than sitting here looking like a pervy stalker. Come on," he stands, pulling Arthur by his shoulder.

"You know, for a skinny guy, you're surprisingly strong," Arthur comments as he is dragged off his stool.

They approach the ladies' table. Arthur clears his throat and says, "Can we buy you ladies a drink?"

She looks up, her deep brown eyes soft and almond-shaped. He stops breathing when she looks at him, shrugs, and says, "Sure."

"Would you like to sit?" her friend asks, motioning to the two vacant chairs at their table.

"Thank you," Merlin says and plops himself down next to her, ensuring that Arthur can sit next to his dream girl.

Arthur motions to a waitress and sits. She comes to the table and takes their orders. Another water for Arthur, another beer for Merlin. The brunette has a rum and Diet Coke while the mystery girl from the library orders a Diet Coke with no rum.

"Designated driver, too?" Arthur asks her.

"Non-drinker," she tells him.

"Oh. Cool," he says, then remembers, "I'm Arthur. This is my friend, Merlin." He holds out his hand. She takes it and says, "Gwen. My friend, Morgana." Her hand feels very soft and cool under his, yet he suddenly feels warmer at her touch. He reluctantly releases her hand to shake Morgana's as well.

"Merlin. What an interesting name," Morgana says.

"Yeah," Merlin sighs, clearly used to people remarking on his unusual name, "My mum was a bit into stories and legends about wizards when she was pregnant with me." The girls laugh, but not unkindly. He has learned to have a sense of humor about it and laughs with them. He then adds, "My middle name is Gandalf."

"It is not!" Morgana is cracking up now.

"Okay, you caught me. It's Keith."

The waitress delivers the drinks and removes the empties. A slower song starts. Arthur gets up his courage. _I've never been nervous like this before, _he notes.

"Would you like to dance?" he asks Gwen. She glances at Morgana, who says, "Go ahead. I'll have a few laughs with the wingman here."

Arthur chokes on his water upon hearing this, and Merlin slaps him on the back, laughing again. He recovers and stands, holding his hand out for Gwen.

She stands and he is certain she is the same person he saw in the library window. She is tiny, coming just past his shoulder, and she is wearing cream-colored Capri pants with a lavender halter top. He can see the nice calves he admired before, and her skin looks gorgeous against the pastel color of her top, and he is dying to touch those caramel shoulders. Her hair is down now, a loose array of curls so dark they are almost black.

She assesses him as well. Jeans, nicely fitting, a white shirt, open at the neck. Simple, almost boring clothes, but on him they looks spectacular. Golden blonde hair, longish but not unflatteringly so. He is very fit and she blushes, realizing her hands are itching to caress the muscles she sees glimpses of.

They walk to the dance floor and he puts his hands around her waist. She brings her hands up to his shoulders, pausing for just a second before reaching around behind his neck. They are silent for a few moments, then he speaks.

"So, what is it you do?"

"I'm a librarian."

"Oh," he says, raising his eyebrows, pretending that he hadn't seen her.

"I know, boring and nerdy, right?"

"No, actually. It's… it's kind of hot, to be honest," he smiles. This time she stops breathing for a second. _What was that?_ she thinks.

Recovering, she asks, "How 'bout you?"

"I'm a firefighter," he says casually, praying that she didn't see him watching her the day before.

"Well, that is definitely hot," she replies, biting her lower lip slightly. He wants to do that, too.

"In a temperature sense, yes," he says with a chuckle. She laughs, a loud carefree laugh. Not a laugh you would expect from a librarian. Her head tilts back slightly as she does so and he catches a glimpse of her throat. He fights the urge to bend his head down and kiss the pulse he sees throbbing there. _Is it beating a little fast?_ he puzzles, not wanting to stare.

"There was a fire across the street from the library yesterday, you know," she says. Her fingers are threading themselves in the hair at the nape of his neck, playing almost absentmindedly. She hasn't realized she has done this until it was too late to stop. _Well, he doesn't seem to mind,_ she thinks, noting that his hands are gently stroking her back now, fingers spreading, hands creeping, but nothing improper.

"Yes, I know," he says, her fingers at his neck turning his insides to liquid. _All right, say it_. "I was there."

Her eyes fly up to his. She has never seen that particular shade of blue in someone's eyes before. They are dark blue, a little grey, unlike Merlin's bright blue ones. They stare into each other's eyes for a moment, and the music changes back to a fast song. They continue on as if the slow song was still playing.

"I saw you," she says softly. He doesn't hear her due to the change in music, and leans in.

"What?"

"I saw you," she says into his left ear, her warm breath sending chills down his entire left side.

"You did?"

"Yes. You were… cleaning things up. Coiling up the firehose. You…"

"I saw you in the library window."

"I know. You took a step toward me, and I knew you'd seen me."

"I don't know what…"

"I know. When I saw you here tonight, I almost ran."

"Ran?"

"Yes. I… was afraid of what would happen if you came over. Morgana made me stay. She was _too_ curious.

"I shall have to remember to thank her. Why were you afraid?"

"Because the moment I saw you take off your helmet yesterday, something happened. I was… drawn in. Like a dream." She pauses. "I can't believe I'm telling you this. We just met," she tries to shake herself from the spell that seems to be around them. They don't even notice the strange looks they are getting from the other patrons on the dance floor. They are in their own universe, where only they exist.

"No, no, I felt it, too," he admits, "I totally panicked when I saw you tonight. Merlin physically dragged me off my stool to come talk to you."

"I shall have to remember to thank him."

He pulls her a little closer, his hands sliding on her back. She lets him.

"I have another confession to make," she says.

"Hmm?"

"You're not my usual type." Now it is Arthur's turn to laugh. She likes his merry smile and notices the slightly crooked front tooth, which she finds charming. His eyes crinkle when he laughs.

"You're not mine, either," he says, then bravely ventures a hand up to caress one of the shoulders that has been taunting him. _Her skin feels like velvet, _he thinks, closing his eyes for a moment.

Her fingers are still in his hair, and when he touches her skin she gasps just slightly, his touch feeling like the sweetest fire. She licks her lips, wanting to kiss him. _This is madness. I have known him for ten minutes, _she thinks.

His breathing is a bit labored as well. Especially when he opens his eyes just in time to see her lick her lips. He brings his hand around under her chin and lifts her face to his. He swoops down and kisses her, swiftly and softly, once. Her eyes drift closed and when she opens them he is staring at her. His eyes are dark.

"I'm sorry… I don't usually…" he begins, embarrassed at his own forwardness. She impulsively kisses him back as her way of telling him he needn't apologize.

"Neither do I," she breathes, leaning her forehead on his chest.

Arthur happens to glance in Merlin's direction. He has been talking animatedly with an increasingly-inebriated Morgana, but he happens to turn and look in Arthur's direction and give him a bewildered look that says, "What the hell? It's a fast song now!"

"The music's changed," Arthur tells Gwen.

"Has it?"

"I only just noticed, myself."

He doesn't want to let her go. She doesn't want him to let her go. Still, they realize how ridiculous they must look and return to the table hand in hand, both blushing slightly.

"So Merlin, are you a fireman, too?" Gwen asks, attempting to recover.

"Nope. I'm an EMT," he tells her.

"EMT?" Morgana asks.

"Emergency Medical Technician," he explains.

"He drives the ambulance," Arthur chimes in.

"Oh yes, that's all I do. Drive the ambulance," Merlin repeats in a sarcastic tone. "I don't save any lives or anything, no, leave that to the big brave firemen to do."

Arthur laughs, familiar with this diatribe. "I see you've had some more drinks," he says, explaining the usually sweet Merlin's current temperament.

"Are you a librarian as well?" Arthur asks Morgana. She busts out laughing at the suggestion.

"Morgana is a hair stylist," Gwen says. "She thinks my job is boring and snooty."

"Well, it is. Sometimes I think you prefer books to people," Morgana says, leaning on her elbows.

"Oh, stop. You prefer gossip to actual information," she teases back.

"Hey, you get your hair done for free, so don't poke fun!" Morgana pokes her shoulder as she says _poke_.

"You two seemed to be… getting along," Merlin says, changing the subject.

"Um, yes. Turns out Gwen here was watching the fire yesterday from across the street." Arthur tells him, giving him a kick under the table. _Play along._

"Oh really? Did you see me? I was the one driving the ambulance," he grins at her.

"Was there an ambulance there? I didn't notice," she grins back, teasing him now. He mocks being crestfallen.

"Of course I saw you, I saw both of you," she tells him, reaching across to pat his hand once. Arthur expects to feel jealousy as she touches his friend's hand, but doesn't. _That's odd,_ he thinks. He's actually glad they are getting along.

"Did you, now?" Merlin asks, making a sideways glance at Arthur.

"She knows I saw her, Merlin," Arthur tells him.

"Oh. You just ruined my fun, you know that?"

"Yes. Yes, I do."

Gwen laughs at the two friends. She is inexplicably drawn to Arthur, but she finds she quite likes Merlin as well, albeit in a completely platonic way. He is easy to talk to and charming. _But Arthur… he takes my breath away. I've never kissed a man that quickly before. He is like a magnet, and I cannot pull away._ She looks at him again. _The fact that he is unreasonably handsome doesn't hurt either._

"Give me your phone," Gwen says to Arthur. He reaches in his pocket and pulls out his phone. She pokes around a bit, finds the contacts list and adds her name and number. She hands him his phone back and their hands touch again, like electricity. His eyes meet hers and hold while he puts his phone away. He returns his hand to hers on the table, eager to feel her skin under his hand again. _She is addictive,_ he thinks.

Morgana is now asleep, leaning her head down on the table. Gwen looks over and sighs, "I guess I had better get her home."

"Will you be okay? I mean, will you be able to handle her?" Arthur asks.

"I think so," she says, shaking Morgana's shoulder. "Wakey-wakey. Time to go!"

She lifts her head, her face bleary but still beautiful. _Odd. Not attracted to her at all,_ Arthur thinks. _She is very beautiful, but she stirs absolutely nothing in me. Wonder if Merlin likes her?_

Merlin helps Morgana to her feet, and she leans over and kisses his cheek wetly. "Hi, Merlin," she says, grinning stupidly.

"Come on," Merlin says, holding his drink a bit better than she.

"We'll at least help you get her to your car," Arthur offers, then reluctantly goes and helps Merlin with the floppy Morgana. She is light, but her limpness and silliness makes her hard for one person to handle.

They reach Gwen's car, and it is not far from Arthur's. They bundle Morgana into the passenger seat and shut the door, but not before she accosts Merlin as he reaches in to fasten her seat belt. Apparently Morgana is an affectionate drunk.

"Are you sure you'll be okay with her?" Arthur asks again.

"Yes, I've done it before. I just have to talk to her like she's a child and she obeys. I've got practice at it, you know. Librarian and all," she smiles at Arthur, whose mind is reeling with the thought of a stern Gwen, giving orders.

"I've really enjoyed meeting you tonight, Gwen," Arthur tells her.

"Me, too."

They stand there awkwardly for a moment. Merlin slowly starts to walk to Arthur's car. Arthur suddenly dips his head and kisses her again, this time a little longer. Her hands rest on his chest. He can feel heat coming from her cool hands.

"You have my number," she says quietly, opening her eyes and getting into the car.

As he walks to his car, Arthur pulls his phone out again and scrolls through the contact list, looking for her name. He sees it there: _Guinevere._


	2. Chapter 2

Next morning, Arthur wakes up late. He couldn't sleep for a long while after he dropped Merlin off and returned to his own apartment. He couldn't stop thinking about her. Once he did sleep, he was blissfully tormented by dreams of her. Her eyes, her lips, her hair, her skin all giving him sensory overload. He woke up stiff as a board. In the shower, he couldn't help but relieve the tension in his loins, thinking of her. _Her smell, her perfectly shaped breasts, her delicate painted toes, her soft curls, her lush, full lips and that cocoa skin, so soft. Oh, God…_

It is Saturday, and he doesn't have to report back in to the firehouse until noon Sunday. He tries to busy himself, actually cleaning his apartment, washing the pile of dishes in his sink, watching football highlights on the news. By noon he can take it no longer. He looks at his phone for the thirtieth time since ten o'clock and dials her number.

Gwen is sitting at her desk in her office at the library, eating her lunch and reading a book open on the desktop. Not reading, really, looking at. She hasn't turned a page in ten minutes, as her mind has been occupied with thoughts of Arthur. She keeps seeing his eyes smiling down at her, his lips, full yet masculine, coming in for a kiss. She remembers the scent from his neck so close as they danced. The images flash in front of her eyes, obscuring the words on the page.

Her phone buzzes, making her jump as it skids across her desktop. She grabs it and looks. _I don't know that number,_ she thinks and is tempted to dump the caller into voicemail. Something stops her, though. _He wouldn't call already, would he?_ Hopeful, she swipes her finger across the screen and answers, attempting to sound calm.

"Hello?"

"Gwen? Hi, this is…"

"Arthur," she cuts him off, "Hello."

He can hear the smile in her voice, and loves how she says his name. Her voice has a throaty quality to it that he didn't catch last night in the noise of the club. He clears his throat, suddenly having no idea what he wants to say. "Um, I…"

"Yes?"

"I hope you don't mind me calling so soon. It's just that I have to work tomorrow and won't be home again until Tuesday, and…" he blurts all at once.

"I'm glad you called," she says, her free hand now picking her lunch apart into tiny pieces of sandwich shrapnel.

"You are?"

"Yes. That's why I gave you my number, silly."

"What are you doing today?" he asks before he can stop himself. _God, I sound desperate,_ he thinks, and pounds his fist down on the countertop.

"Working."

"Oh."

"But I'm done at five," she says, baiting the hook and casting the line out hopefully.

"Can I pick you up?"

"Yes. I'll have some things to do here after closing, so make it five-thirty."

"Five-thirty, then," he repeats, but thinks, _four forty-five_. He wants to see her at work in her little librarian outfit.

"See you later," she sells him.

"'Bye."

He hangs up and stares at the phone for a second. Suddenly it rings in his hand and he almost drops it. _Merlin._

He puts the phone to his ear, and before he can even speak he hears Merlin's voice.

"You called her, didn't you?" he says, his voice accusing.

"How do you _do_ that?" Arthur asks, incredulous.

"I'm a wizard, remember?" Merlin says, making his familiar joke.

"Yeah, sure. If you're a wizard, I'm prince," Arthur counters sarcastically.

"But you still called her."

"Yes."

"You're such a girl."

"We're going out tonight."

"Uh…"

"You've got no witty comeback to that, eh, mate?" Arthur laughs at him.

"Arthur?"

"Yeah?"

"Good luck."

"Thanks."

"Oh, and Arthur?"

"Yeah?"

"See if you can get Morgana's number for me."

The rest of the day goes by far too slowly. Gwen is not thinking about her job at all. Luckily they don't get many visitors to the library on a Saturday afternoon in mid-July, so she's not required to do much. And that only makes the afternoon pass slower.

After she got off the phone with Arthur, she quickly added his name and number to her own contacts list. Then she called Morgana and asked her to bring over a change of clothes.

_He did what?_ Morgana had said on the other end.

_He called me. Right after noon._

_Well, that means he's either desperate or hard-up._

_I doubt that. You did SEE him, didn't you? Or were you too drunk to remember?_

_Yes, yes, blonde, handsome, blah blah blah. His friend was MUCH more interesting._

_You liked Merlin?_

_You know I have a thing for ears._

Gwen laughs at this, then says, _He's taking me out tonight. Bring me a change of clothes?_

_I don't know, I'm kind of busy here…_

_No, you're not. You're watching chat shows and eating cereal._

_Fine, what do you want?_

When Morgana arrives, she not only has the clothes Gwen has requested, but also a slinky lace thong and a pack of condoms that Gwen has not requested. Gwen looks at her and says, "Really?"

"Hey, just want you to be prepared is all. I saw how you two were looking at each other last night, drunk or not."

"And how was that exactly?" Gwen asks, putting her hands on her hips. She knows full well how Arthur was looking at her, but she is curious as to how they appeared to her friend.

Morgana is suddenly serious. "Honestly? It didn't look at all like you'd just met. It looked like the two of you were very much in love and have been for some time. It was… kind of creepy. But in a good way."

Gwen feels her cheeks grow hot and she takes the canvas bag from her roommate. She doesn't know what to say. _What is going on?_ she thinks.

Morgana plants a kiss on Gwen's cheek, her airy self again, says, "I won't wait up," turns on her heel and flounces out the door.

Gwen looks at her watch. Three o'clock. _Will this day ever end?_ She takes the bag back to her office, shuts the door, and looks at the underwear. She ponders it a minute, then before she can change her mind, she takes off the ones she had on and puts the new ones on.


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur takes another shower that afternoon. He is anxious about seeing her again and has spent most of the afternoon working out, just to pass the time. _The time that seems to be mocking me with its slowness._ He walks out the door at four thirty-five, knowing exactly how much time he needs to get to the library. He drove past on his way home from the gym, even though it was completely out of the way.

He walks through the doors at exactly four forty-five. She is behind the main desk, but facing away from him. He pauses a moment, admiring the view. Then he strides up, affects a different voice and says, "Excuse me, miss, I'd like a library card, please."

She spins around, saying, "Oh! Of course, sir…" her voice stopping when she sees Arthur standing there.

"Guinevere."

It was like thunder rolling through her bones, hearing him speak her full name like that. She is rooted to the spot, yet her knees have turned to liquid and she feels truly faint for a moment. She opens her mouth slightly, her heart body-slamming itself against her ribcage.

"Arthur," she breathes. Then, shaking her head slightly to clear it, she manages, "You're early."

"I know," he smiles at her, leaning on the desk. He inspects her. She looks every bit the proper little librarian, in a lightweight floral skirt, longer than the other day, more flowing, with a simple silk button-up blouse, light blue. The top button is undone and he can see the little hollow where her collarbones meet. _I want to lick that spot,_ he finds himself thinking. She is also wearing a thin cream-colored cardigan sweater, despite the fact that it is summer. On her feet are simple ballet flats. He's a little disappointed that he can't see her delicious toes.

"Arthur?" she asks, noticing his stare.

"Hmm. Oh, I was just thinking that you look really cute," he says, grinning.

"Thank you," she smiles at him, "just my work clothes, nothing special." He is wearing black trousers, nicely tailored, with a red t-shirt made of some sort of soft clingy material that highlights his muscular chest just enough. She devours him with her eyes for a moment. Then she smirks at him.

"What?" he asks, straightening up.

"A red shirt on a firefighter? Isn't that a bit… predictable?"

"Yes, well, you have a pencil in your hair." Now it is his turn to smirk.

She squeezes her eyes together and winces in embarrassment. She reaches back and pulls a pencil out of the bun at the back of her head, saying, "Touché."

Gwen looks at the clock. Four fifty-six. "Close enough," she says and walks out from behind the desk and goes to lock the doors. "You're going to have to wait for me now, since you're so early," she tells him.

"Can I follow?"

"Sure, why not?" She walks into the stacks, Arthur close behind. _She sure walks fast for such a small thing._

The library is mostly clean, and Gwen bustles around, shutting down computers and pushing in chairs. Arthur helps where he can, straightening chairs as well and making sure the monitors are turned off. There are some books lying around, and she scoops them up and walks towards the shelves.

"Isn't it a bit warm for a sweater?" he asks her.

"I'm usually cold in this building," she tells him over her shoulder. "I keep this sweater here."

Gwen looks at the book in her hand, then up at the top shelf. "Let me," Arthur says, taking it from her. He reaches up and pushes the book into a slot.

"Not there," she tells him.

"No?"

"You can't just stick it in anywhere, you know."

He raises an eyebrow at her. She laughs suddenly at her unintentional double entendre.

"I love your laugh," he says, laughing with her, "it's so… un-librarian."

"I know, I get _looks_ here sometimes." She looks at him. "You have a wonderful smile," she tells him, placing her hand on his cheek. He feels that same fire under her palm again, and his eyes lock onto hers for a second.

"So, where should I stick it, then?"

"Excuse me?"

"The book." He waves it at her. She removes her hand and points.

"There. See the blue one, with the yellow writing on the spine?"

"This one?" he points.

"Yes. To its left."

As he shelves the book, Gwen quickly reaches up and almost unconsciously unbuttons another button on her blouse. _What on earth is wrong with me?[_ Arthur turns from the shelf, and she quickly says, "This way," and walks away from him. He follows like a lost puppy.

She has three books left to shelve, and does so as quickly as she can. Arthur watches her, admiring her efficient manner as she scurries about. She knows exactly where everything is. He also admires the way her hips swing under her skirt and how the silk of her blouse pulls strategically when she reaches out to replace books.

"So, you get looks for your loud laugh, but aren't you afraid you're going to get in trouble?" he asks as he follows her.

"With who?"

"Oh, your boss, perhaps."

"I _am_ the boss. What are they going to do, complain about me to me?" She smiles as he stands there mutely staring.

She bends down to shelve the last book, on a bottom shelf, and Arthur angles his head to get a better view. _Wait. Her blouse wasn't open that much before. Was it? No. It definitely wasn't. Did she…?_ he thinks, and feels a slight twitch inside his trousers as he walks to her.

She stands, and starts slightly to discover him so close. He puts his hands on her shoulders, then slides them down her arms, gazing down at her. She looks up and her lips part of their own accord. He bites his lower lip in an extremely alluring way, as if trying to decide about something. He makes his decision and kisses her, trapping her between his body and the shelf behind her.

She whimpers in the back of her throat, her hands on his chest. He breaks away for a fraction of a second, only to return hungrier, mouth open, tongue searching for hers. She lets him find it, kissing him back, her own tongue probing as her hands slide up around his neck.

He slips one hand around to the side, pressing against the underside of her breast. She suddenly remembers where they are, and manages, "Arthur. Wait…"

He pulls away from her, saying, "Sorry, I…"

"No, not that. Just… not here."

"Oh. Of course," he says, looking around, a bit puzzled. There's no one else here. The doors are locked. They are nowhere near the windows.

"Security cameras," she tells him, almost as if she has read his mind. They stand for a minute, his one arm still around her, and she says, "You know, it _is_ a bit warm in here," and she peels off her sweater.

She reaches back to tie it around her waist and the neckline of her shirt stretches open, allowing him a nice view of its contents. He blows a big puff of air out, and reaches for the sweater. "Here, I'll hold that for you," he says, taking the sweater. While she's not looking, he raises it to his face and smells it. _It smells like her._ His trousers start feeling too tight again.

"Just have to check the children's area," she says, as she takes his free hand and leads him. "Shouldn't be too bad. I don't think there were any kids here today."

_I am losing my mind,_ she thinks as the warmth of his hand in hers spreads up her arm, threatening to melt her.

As she suspected, the children's area is spotless, so she merely flips off the lights. "Come on," she tells him and pulls him to the front again.

Instead of going to the doors, she leads him to a small hallway behind the circulation desk, to a door. Next to the door is a placard that reads:

Gwen Thomas

Head Librarian

She pushes the door open and leads him inside, closing the door tightly behind them, locking it. He cocks an eyebrow at her again, but she says nothing.

Her office is small, but tidy, with stacks of books everywhere. Neat stacks of books. It does not look disorderly in any way, as if the books are exactly where they should be. There is a desk with a chair behind it, and another chair in front of it. Against one wall is a small sofa. There are books on the cushions, and Gwen walks over to move them. She sets them deliberately on the floor, stacking them neatly like the others, intentionally bending at the waist instead of the knees. Arthur groans, hoping that she's doing what he thinks she's doing.

Once the sofa has been cleared, she turns and looks at him, saying, "No cameras in here." He strides over to her and takes her in his arms again. This time she grabs his head pulls him down to her waiting lips, her hands in his hair. He runs his hands across her back, down to caress her backside. He gives it a gentle squeeze and she moans into his mouth, pulling them both to the sofa, stepping out of her shoes as she does so. He is over her now, his hardness pressing into her softness. Her hands glide down his chest and pull at his shirt, un-tucking it. He attempts to unfasten the tiny buttons on her blouse. _Stupid small buttons,_ he silently curses them. She comes to his aid, her slender fingers undoing the rest of them with ease. He attacks her neck, biting and kissing and licking, smiling as he sweeps his tongue in the hollow he saw earlier. She leans her head back and sighs as his hand starts pulling her skirt up, caressing her leg as his hand scoots upward to her thigh, reaching up to hold her backside. _Has she got no knickers on?_ He gropes around some. _Ah, there they are._

She sits up and pulls her blouse off her shoulders. He leans back and yanks his shirt off over his head. In a moment of clarity, she stops and asks him, "You didn't make any reservations or anything, did you?"

"What? Oh. Yes, I did. They're not until six thirty."

She looks at the clock. Five seventeen. "Plenty of time," she says as he descends on her again, reaching behind her to unhook her bra. She reaches for his belt and swiftly undoes it. Next she starts on his trousers. He shoves his shoes off with his toes and they fall to the floor with a _clunk, clunk_ that makes her chuckle.

Bra discarded to the floor, Arthur takes a minute to look. The only light on in the room is a small desk lamp, and there are no windows to let in any outside light. _She is more gorgeous than I could have hoped._ He finds a zipper on the side of her skirt and undoes it, sliding the thin cotton down. She lifts her rear to allow the skirt to slide off, revealing the lace thong she had been wearing since early afternoon.

"Well, _this_ is a surprise," Arthur says, smiling as he runs his finger along the narrow waistband. Gwen smiles, blushing. He quickly stands and pulls his trousers and boxer briefs off and they contemplate one another for a moment.

"You are beautiful, Guinevere," he says, her name on his lips again making her insides flip.

"So are you," she returns. He looks like a piece of art. A carved statue. _He can't possibly be real,_ the thinks. He grins and crouches next to her. He places gentle kisses on her stomach as he slides the thong down, placing it gently on the floor. He kisses his way back up, noting a small beauty mark between her breasts, on which he deposits a kiss. She reaches for him as he climbs back onto the sofa; grasping him in her hand, no longer cool as it once was.

Arthur lets out a groan as she strokes him, and reaches down to touch her as well. She gasps as he does so, his fingers sliding as his lips familiarize themselves with her breasts.

She releases him and reaches back behind her to the canvas bag Morgana had brought earlier, laying on the table next to the sofa, behind her head. Her blind groping catches Arthur's attention and he looks up.

"What are you… ah, I see," he says as he spies what she is reaching for. He reaches up himself, opens the box and takes one out. Then he looks at her questioningly.

"Don't ask," she says, reaching up to kiss him as she takes the condom from his hand. She opens it and places it on him, which he finds quite alluring. _That's a change,_ he thinks vaguely, returning his lips to hers, hungrily. He delves into her.

"Arthur…" she breathes, wrapping one leg around him as he thrusts, the other leg pinned between him and the back of the sofa.

Arthur's mind is a complete fog. He's had women before, but it has never been like this, especially the first time. No awkwardness or embarrassment, no fumbling. Each seems to know exactly what the other likes, as if they have been lovers for a long time. His eyes drift closed. He forces them open again to look at her, writhing in pleasure beneath him. _I cannot get enough of her. _He increases his efforts, actually making the sofa scoot on the floor a few inches as he does so. She is digging her nails into his shoulders, but he hardly feels it. He clutches the arm of the sofa with one hand, the other is at her breast, caressing, teasing. Gwen starts to cry out as her climax hits her like a massive wave. She is completely gone; the only thoughts in her head are of him and how is making her feel. Arthur kisses her again, gently, while he thrusts powerfully yet into her, near to the edge himself. He lifts his head and growls, releasing, and practically blacks out from the intensity of it.

He lowers himself down once he can see again, resting his head on her chest, withdrawing himself from her.

"I'm not crushing you, am I?" he lifts his head to look at her blissful face.

"No," she says, and kisses him. "I can't believe we just did that."

He stops breathing, worry and regret starting to shoot through him. Then he hears her start to giggle, and he breathes again.

"You mean you don't regularly shag men on this couch that you just met the night before?"

"I've never even kissed anyone in here before," she admits.


	4. Chapter 4

They make it to dinner on time. Gwen has changed into the clothes she had Morgana bring, a fitted scoop-neck t-shirt in pale yellow and a short dark grey skirt that hugs her hips nicely and shows off her shapely legs. She has her sandals from the previous night back on and her hair is down, having come mostly undone during their rendezvous in her office.

While they wait for their food, they talk, happily discovering that they both actually rather like each other for more than just carnal reasons. They talk easily. There are no random silences or awkward pauses.

"You know, my father is the only person that calls me 'Guinevere,'" she tells him.

"Really? That's too bad. I quite like it. Guinevere," he repeats. He notices her breath catch. "Something wrong?"

"I don't know. Nothing, I guess. It's just… weird. The way you say my name makes me… Well, let's just say that if my father said it that way I'd need to seek extensive counseling," she grins and takes a sip of water.

Arthur laughs, then admits, "I like hearing you say my name as well." He reaches across the table, offering his hand. She places hers in it.

"He never used to. Call me that. My father, I mean. He was against naming me such an old-fashioned name, but my mother insisted. When she died, he started calling me 'Guinevere' almost exclusively. I think he does it to try to hold on to her memory."

"I'm sorry," he says, stroking her hand with his thumb, "I didn't know." He looks a little more troubled by this news than she thinks he should.

"It's all right; how could you know? She died a long time ago. I was eight," she reassures him, but he still looks a bit freaked out. "Arthur?"

"I'm okay," he says, noting her concern. "It's just really weird. My mother is also dead. I never knew her."

Her eyes open wider, "Really?"

"Yes. She actually died before I was born, if that makes any sense." He continues, seeing the question in her eyes. "She was in a car accident two weeks before I was due to be born. Driving to work one morning. Drunk driver broadsided the car. They were able to deliver me safely, but she had sustained too much head trauma. She was killed almost immediately." He takes a drink of his water. She places his hand between both of hers.

"That's so heartbreaking," she says, close to tears. "I'm so sorry for you."

"Thank you. So we've got _that_ in common at least," he smiles at her, trying to lift the mood, and she grins in spite of herself.

"How about you? Does no one call you 'Art' or 'Artie?'" She asks after a time.

"No, I've always been an 'Arthur.' Of course Merlin occasionally has some other choices that he comes up with, but you don't need to know about those," he smiles.

"I can imagine," she says, oddly pleased that Arthur has such a good friend in his life.

Their food arrives, and Arthur remembers to ask after Morgana. "How was your friend last night? I bet she feels great today."

"She was fine. She gets a little… affectionate, though. Guess how many times she told me she loved me," she grins.

"Um, four?"

"Try fourteen."

"You counted?"

"I always do. It's a habit. Plus then I can tease her with it the next morning. At least she didn't grab my boob this time," she tells him, making him choke on his bite of steak.

"_What?_" he sputters, laughing.

"I told you she was an affectionate drunk."

"Yes, Merlin mentioned something about that as well."

"What did she do?"

"Um, let's see… I believe his words were, 'She stuck her tongue down my throat and grabbed my balls,' if memory serves. He was just trying to fasten her seat belt."

Gwen laughs at this, causing diners at surrounding tables to turn and look.

"Oh, and he wants to know if he can have her number," he remembers, and Gwen laughs her laugh again.

The waitress arrives to check on things, and then asks them, "Are we celebrating anything this evening? An anniversary, perhaps?"

Arthur looks at Gwen, then up at the waitress and deadpans, "No, actually, it's our first date."

The waitress turns bright red, says, "Oh," and hurries away. She could have sworn they were married or at least had been dating for a while.

Gwen is smirking, her eyes twinkling. Then suddenly her face turns serious and she says, "I can see her point, actually. I feel like I have known you much longer than I have. Like years."

"Thousands of years," Arthur says. He is giving her that look again, the one that makes her skeleton turn to molten jelly.

"I… had an interesting dream last night," she says, mostly to the chicken on her plate.

"Oh? Interesting how?" he asks, trying to sound casual, remembering the kinds of dreams _he_ had the previous night.

"Just interesting. It was old; medieval. We were in a castle or a fortress. The details are a little hazy now, but I was some kind of servant or maid and you were a noble of some sort."

"And…?" he prompts.

"And… um, we…" she blushes, regretting having brought the topic up now.

"Shagged like rabbits?"

She nods.

"I had dreams of a similar sort myself. I don't remember any castles, but I _definitely_ remember the shagging," he chuckles.


	5. Chapter 5

After dinner, in which Arthur makes sure to leave a hefty tip for the mortified waitress, they walk. He reaches out and takes her hand, sliding his hand down her arm as he does so. She shivers.

"Are you cold?" he asks, remembering her earlier words. _I wish I had a jacket to give her._

"No, that's not why I shivered," she smiles up at him.

They are quiet for several minutes. It is a comfortable silence, and they approach a park. They sit on a bench near a pond and watch the ducks.

"Guinevere," Arthur says, and she turns toward him.

"Hmm?"

"I really like you. A lot. More than I've ever liked anyone," he stops, assessing her reaction. "Am I freaking you out?"

"No." She thinks a moment, then repeats, "No. I feel the same way. When I said I felt like I've known you a very long time, I was completely serious. I feel so… comfortable with you, like I could tell you anything. And I can't get you out of my brain. That's never happened to me before. Usually there are about three or four trains of thought running around up there, but since last night I've thought of little else but you. Am I freaking you out now?" she grins at him.

"Not at all. I feel exactly the same way. It's like you're a magnet, drawing me in," he says, illustrating his point by leaning in to kiss her. This time it is tender, soft, but still full of passion. He pulls away and looks into her soft brown eyes. "Would it be completely insane to tell you that I think I love you?" Almost a whisper.

"Not half as insane as the fact that I know I love you," she replies, and kisses him again.

They walk some more, and come across an ice cream van. He buys them ice cream just so he can watch her eat it. He is not disappointed, her pink tongue licking, lips sucking at the cold soft mound of ice cream perched on its cone.

He learns that she can say the alphabet backwards. She finds out that he knows how to fence quite well. She knows a surprising amount about cars; he enjoys opera. He also unintentionally gets her to confess that she unbuttoned her shirt.

"So this counting habit you have. Is it just to irritate Morgana?"

"No, it's a bit of a compulsion, I'm afraid. For example, back at the library, I caught you looking down my blouse nine times. _Before_ we went into my office."

He risks it. "Well, if you hadn't been showing them to me, bending over in front of me and doing things like _unbuttoning your shirt_ while I wasn't looking, maybe I wouldn't have looked so much."

She gasps, but she is smiling, and admits, "You noticed that, huh?" She takes a bite out of the cone, trying to hide behind it. She makes doe eyes at him over the top of the ice cream.

"I had an inkling. Which you just confirmed, thank you very much," he says, spooning another bite of his sundae in. "And thank you for the show," he adds.

"You've taken eleven bites of your sundae," she tells him with a grin. He laughs loudly at this.

They finish their ice cream, and Arthur looks at his watch. "It's getting late. I should probably be taking you home," he says reluctantly.

"Probably," she says, looking up at him through her dark lashes. "You do realize I live with Morgana, don't you?" she asks, not really sure if he's thinking what she thinks he's thinking.

He is. "Oh. No. I hadn't realized." His eyes meet hers and he says, "I live alone."

"Oh." She smiles.

He takes her hand and leads her to his car.


	6. Chapter 6

He opens the door and she walks in. His apartment is clean, but mostly empty.

"Well, this is certainly… Spartan," she says.

"Hey, at least I have real furniture. Some of the guys at the firehouse have lawn chairs in their living room." He takes his shoes off and places them on a mat just inside the door. Gwen follows suit. _Okay, he has a no shoes in the house rule,_ she thinks, smiling, but then she remembers his occupation. _Oh. Soot._

"You're kidding."

"Wish I was. Would you like anything? Beverage? Snack?"

She puts her hand on her stomach and says, "Not after all that ice cream."

"All that ice cream? You didn't even finish yours!"

"Well, I'm not a big brave firefighter like you who can probably eat whatever he wants because he works it all off," she says, approaching him and wrapping her arms around his waist. She rests her chin on his chest and looks up at him. He brings his arms around her and they stand for a few moments in his living room, just holding each other. She turns her head to the side, resting it on his chest and closes her eyes.

"Gwen?"

"Hmm?"

"Um, I have to pee."

She laughs and lets go of him. He walks down the hall, calling back, "Make yourself at home." He finds he truly hopes she does.

She looks around. _Not much to look at, really._ She wanders to the kitchen and finds a stack of magazines, mostly dealing with sports. She looks at the address label. _Arthur Pendragon. That's an unusual last name._ She finds that she actually is a little thirsty, and she opens cupboards looking for a glass to get some water. She finds one easily, and goes to the freezer. _He actually has ice cubes. Nice._ She takes a couple cubes and fills her cup from the tap. Just then, Arthur's phone rings. The tone is the theme song from a crap American TV show from the 1970s about a firehouse. She smiles.

"Arthur? Your phone is ringing," she shouts back.

"That's just Merlin. Hey—go ahead an answer it. It'll be brilliant," comes a muffled voice.

She picks up the phone. "Hello, Merlin."

Silence. Then, "…Gwen?"

"Yes?" She is trying not to laugh now, and Arthur is strolling towards her, grinning devilishly.

"Um… is Arthur… available?" He is clearly puzzled.

"I'm sorry, but he's a bit _tied up_ right now," she says, trying to make it sound as suggestive as she can. Arthur clamps his hand over his mouth.

"Uh… um… yes. I… ah…"

"Merlin! I'm kidding!" she lets him off the hook. "He was just in the loo. Here." She hands the phone to Arthur, who is now laughing openly.

"Very funny, Clotpole," Merlin says.

"Oh, come on, it was," Arthur chides him. Gwen is flipping through a magazine, trying not to listen to their conversation. _Oh, yes,_ she remembers. Looking around on the counter, she grabs an empty envelope and finds a pen. She writes the name "Morgana" on the envelope, and beneath it a string of numbers. She passes it to Arthur with a grin. He takes it and winks at her.

"So I take it the date's going well?" Merlin asks.

"Very."

"But you can't give details right now because she's there."

"That would be correct."

"Are you at your place, then?"

"Yes."

"Is she going to… stay around tonight, do you think?"

"Absolutely. Oh – something's just been handed to me."

"What's that?" he asks, curious.

"Looks like a number of some sort. With a name."

"Morgana's? Hang on."

Arthur hears him scrambling for a pen.

"Ready," he says. Arthur tells him the number, which he repeats back.

"Yep. Good luck."

"Thanks. I'll let you get back to whatever it was you were doing, then."

"Thank you very much."

"You better call me tomorrow, mate."

"When, while we're at work, genius?"

"Oh yeah. See you tomorrow, then."

"Yeah." Arthur hangs up the phone and then sets it to silent before he places it back on the counter.

"He's a good friend, isn't he?" Gwen asks, closing the magazine.

"Yes, he actually is," he says, as she walks back out to the living room and sits on the sofa. He sits down beside her, their bodies angled toward each other.

"I'm glad."

"So you and Morgana are roommates. Are you close?"

"We've been friends for a very long time, yes. She's a lot of fun and she has a good heart, but she does have a tendency to be a bit selfish. Well, shallow might be a better word," she says, running her fingers along the edge of the glass. She sets it down on the table. Arthur reaches behind him, grabs a coaster, lifts the glass and replaces it on the coaster. Gwen smiles at him. _Cute._

"It's a family heirloom," he explains.

"No explanation necessary. I love it when a man uses coasters," she teases.

He laughs, then continues, "Yeah, Merlin really is a good guy. A bit of a klutz sometimes, but he's great. I'm glad you like him."

She notices a football under a chair. "Bit of a sports fan, then? I noticed all the magazines."

"Yes, well, that's the secret about being a fireman. It's mostly pretty boring. I work 48-hour shifts and it's rare that anything happens at all."

"It has to be better than running into burning buildings every day," she says, trying to hide the fact that the thought of him risking his life as part of his job worries her very much. More than it should at this point.

"We do have training drills, which are fun, but actual calls where we get to do some actual firefighting don't happen much. So we find ways to amuse ourselves as best we can. I'm in charge of keeping the magazines stocked."

"Ah, so it's a work assignment, then? You're not a sports freak?"

"No, I am," he grins. "You already know I fence. But as that's a bit inconvenient in a firehouse, we kick a football around a lot. When the weather's bad, we resort to indoor activities, hence the magazines. Of course there's also the telly and the internet as well. And table tennis is quite popular.

"Ever try reading an actual book?"

"Oh, now you're getting all librarian-y on me," he laughs. He picks up her glass and takes a drink from it, unthinkingly, not asking permission yet causing no offense.

"Of course."

"I never got that library card, you know."

"You don't have a library card?" she raises her eyebrows at him, chastising.

"No, ma'am, I don't. But I have a feeling I'll be remedying that very soon. You see," he leans in, conspiratorially, "I've got my eye on this really cute girl that works at the library, so I'm going to be spending a lot more time there."

"Anyone I know?" she leans in as well, gossipy now.

He lunges at her, kissing her. She laughs as he does so, but her amusement quickly changes to desire as he leans her back on the cushions of the couch, his hand on her cheek, stroking down her neck.

"I love your skin… how it feels… so soft…" he whispers between kisses. Her hands are in his hair, down his back, on his backside. He trails kisses down her neck and she leans her head back and sighs.

"I love how… your hands feel… on my skin," she whispers back.

He pulls away, off of her. She blinks in surprise, and finds herself lifted from the couch, slung her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry as he strides down the hall to his bedroom.

"Show-off," she says, laughing into his back. He smacks her backside playfully.

He enters the room, kicking the door closed behind him. He dumps her on the bed. She looks around, pleasantly surprised to find that not only is the bed made, but it also is not just a mattress on the floor. _I'm officially impressed,_ she thinks.

"Thought we could make use of a proper bed this time," he says, his voice rough.

"Arthur?" She wants to get something off her chest.

"Yes?" he says, sitting down in front of her on the bed.

"I just want you to know that I'm not usually this…" she searches for the right word.

"…brazen?" he offers.

"Well, I was going to go with 'slutty,' but 'brazen' does sound nicer."

He kisses her briefly and says, "I never move this fast either. Honest." He makes an X over his heart with his finger.

"Why now? I mean, what's going on? What's different? You feel it, too, don't you?" she says, furrowing her brow.

He runs his fingers along her brow, willing it to unfurl, and says, "I do. But I don't know either. It's that… feeling again, I think. That I've-known-you-much-longer-than-I-really-have feeling."

They stare at each other. Finally, she says, "Perhaps our minds and souls have known each other for a long time. And our bodies are just trying to catch up."

"Sounds good to me," he says, leaning towards her again.

"Wait, maybe we should—"

"Guinevere."

"What?"

"You think too much. Just kiss me." She does, and forgets everything else.


	7. Chapter 7

Arthur crawls forward, kissing her, so that she has no choice but to lie back against the pillows. This time he is pulling at his own shirt and unbuckling his own belt as he prowls forward. He once again yanks the shirt over his head and tosses it in the general direction of a clothes hamper he keeps in a corner. Then he descends back down to her, kissing deeply, as if it has been months since they'd been together instead of merely hours. He is determined to take his time this time, and he slows his pace. She seems to notice the change and he feels her hands roving on his bare chest, familiarizing herself with his contours as the feel of her fingers on his skin burns into his memory.

His own hands start gliding lower, and he slides one up under her shirt. She presses forward, sitting up. He leans back on his knees, straddling her legs, watching her pull her shirt off over her head and drop it gently on the floor beside the bed. While she is still sitting up, she opens his trousers and slides her hand inside, over his underwear. He groans, eyes rolling back in his head slightly. She reaches forward with both hands, sliding his trousers and underwear down his hips. He hops off the bed, pulling them off, along with his socks, and returns to her, completely naked. _He really is a beautiful man,_ she admits, her eyes roaming over his body.

He scoots in so that he is sitting behind her, legs on either side of her. He undoes her bra, sliding it off from behind, his hands replacing the material. She leans back into him, her head on his shoulder as he touches her, a breast in each hand, stroking, squeezing lightly. His work-roughened hands feel exceptionally wonderful on her delicate skin and she sighs. He runs his hands down to her stomach and slides them beneath the waist of her skirt, inching it down. She helps him slide it off down her legs and it lands near her shirt.

Arthur returns one hand to a breast while the other toys with the lace thong. He is intrigued by it, and smiles into her neck. _She wears something so sexy beneath her prim work clothes…_

"I don't always," she says, reading his mind again.

"So you wore these for me?" he nibbles her ear, sending more flame-kissed chills down her spine.

"You might say that. You might also say that Morgana is smarter than she looks, since she brought them with my change of clothes. I— didn't ask… for— them." Trying to talk is getting difficult, as he now has his hand inside the tiny garment. Trying to think is impossible. She gives up.

"I shall have to remember to thank her," he repeats, tongue tracing a line from her ear down to her shoulder. She grabs his thighs on either side, finding them as muscular and sinewy as the rest of him.

"What?" she asks, mind on one task only.

"Huh?" he replies, similarly distracted.

Gwen's mind is nothing but a fog and she is vaguely aware of him removing her panties and dropping them with the rest of her clothes. She is pressing back against him, rubbing against him, making him moan at the contact. His hand between her legs is driving her wild and she unthinkingly digs her nails into his thighs.

"Ouch," he says into her ear.

"Oh, sorry," she manages, still distracted by his hand. She turns around, wanting to face him, needing to see him. She kisses him, leaning him back, and he hits his head on the headboard.

"Ouch," he says again, sitting forward, chuckling.

"I'm so sorry!" she says, but she is laughing, too, the spell temporarily broken, and she rises up on her knees to reach up and rub the back of his head. Arthur suddenly finds himself with her breasts very near his face, so he takes advantage, bringing his lips to one of the hardened nubs, tongue and teeth taunting it. Gwen gasps and grabs his hair.

He leans her back again, kissing her chest, reminding himself to go slow. _We've got all night,_ he thinks, and smiles as he moves to pay some attention to the other breast while his hands stroke her back gently, sliding down to her backside, holding her there.

Gwen's hand reaches down for him, holding him in her warm hand for a second, squeezing gently. She runs the very tips of her fingers lightly along his length, teasing, and he draws his breath in sharply at the sensation. Now it is her time to smile at his reaction to her attentions, and she takes him in her hand again, stroking slowly.

"Guinevere…" he warns.

"Hmm?" she says innocently.

He looks at her. _What was I going to say?_ Lost in her eyes, he says, "You. Are. Amazing." He kisses her lips hungrily, pulling her back down onto him, this time taking care to scoot lower so he doesn't hit his head.

The bedclothes are getting quite rumpled beneath them, and they somehow manage to pull them back and out of the way. He flips them over so he is over her again, but off to one side. He wants to see her laid out on his bed. He stares.

Normally Gwen would feel embarrassment at a man staring at her naked body this way, but she doesn't this time. She boldly stares back at him, each wanting to memorize every curve and angle of the other.

"I cannot believe how incredibly gorgeous you are," he says, then drops back down to her and kisses her. His lips are soft, gentle, almost worshipful as he molds his lips to hers, his tongue gently stroking hers, caressing. His hand is on her stomach, sliding up to her breast, sliding down to her hip, her thigh, between her legs, leaving a trail in its wake that feels scorched and sensitive. She moans into his mouth, and he responds by pressing deeper, hungrily tasting, sucking. She bites his lower lip gently, her teeth adding a new dimension to the sensations already running through his body. Her hand is back at his groin, touching and teasing in a manner that seems almost absentminded but still terribly arousing.

Arthur's desire is reaching a critical point, and he can only think of being inside her, making her scream with pleasure. He shifts his weight and gropes blindly over to the nightstand, pulling open a drawer, feeling around. His fingers find the packet and he brings his hand back over with it clenched in his fist. She puts her free hand on his fist and peels his fingers open, taking it from him so that she can again place it on him.

"I love that you do that for me," he mutters into her ear as she rolls the latex down his shaft. She smiles and bites his earlobe gently, but hard enough to send a thrill down his abdomen. He moves to position himself over her, but she pushes him back, climbing on top herself instead. She straddles him, resting on her hands, suspended over him. She leans down and kisses him, then reaches down with one hand to guide him into her as she does so. He pulls his lips away as he enters her, breathing, "Oh…"

He expects her to sit upright as she rides him. She doesn't. Instead she leans forward and twines her legs around his and she slowly starts to slide on him, torturing him with pleasure. Their bodies are in almost complete contact with each other, and she keeps the pace slow, prolonging the sensation.

"You're killing me," he moans, and she chuckles impishly, maintaining her slow pace.

Arthur leans forward and kisses her neck, and she arches back to allow him access to her breasts. He follows this lead and lavishes attention on them, kissing and licking and biting while she gradually increases her speed.

Gwen can feel her entire body growing warm and weak, as if there is lava running through her veins, burning her from the inside in the best possible way. Arthur is groaning at her breasts, urging her on, faster, harder. She complies eagerly, and climaxes with a few short, breathy shouts. The sound of her pleasure pushes Arthur over the edge himself and he slams into her with a grunt as his entire body feels like it is surging into her. She holds him as he rides his own wave, his every muscle crying out for her. Once he stills, she flips her hair to the side and puts her head down on his chest, laying on him as if he were her own personal mattress. Suddenly Arthur starts laughing, a delighted infectious laugh that causes Gwen to raise her head and stare at him.

"What's so funny?" she asks, suddenly finding that she wants to laugh as well, he is so joyful.

"I have no idea," he says, gathering her back to him, his hand in her hair as he gently places her head back on his chest. He kisses her head. "But I love you." She can still hear the smile in his voice.

"I love you, too Arthur," she says, kissing his chest.

They lay there for several minutes, his arms wrapped around her. She shifts slightly; disconnecting them, then leans up and kisses him sweetly. She then rolls off of him and they clean themselves up a bit before pulling the covers up over them.

"Will you stay?" Arthur asks her as she snuggles into his arms.

"Wasn't planning on going anywhere," she says into his neck. Then she looks up at him. "You have to work tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"What time do you need to be there?"

"Noon."

"Good." She settles her head back down. Her feet are cold. She tucks them between his calves.

"Your feet are cold."

"You noticed."

"Oh…!" he suddenly exclaims, as if he had forgotten something important.

"What?" She looks back up at him again. _Wow, I am not used to all this strenuous activity. Tired._

He looks to the side, blushing.

"What?" She presses, intrigued.

He tucks his head into the pillow, and tells her in a muffled voice, "I forgot that I was going to acquaint myself with your adorable toes."

"My what, now?"

He looks at her and says, quite matter-of-factly, "You have very cute toes."

She blinks at him. "I don't believe anyone has ever said that to me before."

"Pity." He screws his lips to one side, still regretting his omission.

"You'll have other opportunities," she tells him, now laughing at him. He stops her laughter with a scorching kiss.

"Goodnight, Guinevere," he says quietly against her lips, reaching back to switch off the small bedside lamp.

"Goodnight Arthur," she whispers


	8. Chapter 8

Gwen wakes up before Arthur does. She looks at the clock on the nightstand. Eight seventeen. She has slept like the dead and feels quite awake. She looks at Arthur, sprawled on his face next to her, one arm thrown casually over her. _Regret? No, no regret. Only… happiness. This is so weird, but it feels so right._ She leans over and kisses his cheek, bringing forth a small snort from Arthur but he doesn't wake. She decides to get up.

She visits the toilet and decides to go see if he has anything in the kitchen that they can eat. She looks around the room, eyes falling on her small pile of clothes next to the bed. _Ugh. Don't want to put those on yet._ She turns and walks to a dresser against a wall, and opens the top drawer. _Underwear and socks._ Next. _Ah, t-shirts._ She selects one, a navy blue tee with white lettering on it. She holds it up. The front says, "2010 Firemen's Picnic" with a logo underneath it. The back has "PENDRAGON" across the top above a large number one. Smiling, she puts it on, fully aware of how cliché she is being. She wanders out to the kitchen.

She opens the fridge. Two bottles of beer, a pack of some kind of lunch meat, a carton of eggs – yielding two eggs upon opening. Some cheese, a half-empty carton of milk, a few apples, and some take-away boxes. _Hmm._ She checks the freezer. Some frozen dinners and a box of toaster waffles. _Hmm._ Breadbox. A third of a loaf of bread and some bagels. She picks up the bagels. _What kind?_ She sniffs. _Plain. All right, then._

Arthur stirs, hearing distant noises. He peels his eyes open. _Who's out there?_ A second later, _Oh. OH._ He shoots out of bed, remembering his overnight guest, eager to see her. He smells food, too. He grabs a soft pair of shorts that he generally sleeps in and pulls them on. After a quick pee, he shuffles out to the kitchen to see what Gwen is up to.

He sees her standing in his kitchen, cooking his food and wearing his shirt. He smiles, liking the sight of her not only wearing his shirt but also wearing his name. He creeps forward, intending to surprise her, when she says, "I thought firemen were supposed to be good cooks."

"How did you…?"

She points to the microwave oven above the stove in front of her. "Reflection," she says, turning her head back to look back at him. She looks beautiful, well-rested, stunning. Her hair is pulled back now in a loose ponytail at the base of her neck to keep it out of her way. He comes up behind her, wraps his arms around her waist and kisses the side of her neck. "Good morning."

She smiles at him, rumpled and half-naked, but incredibly sexy. "Good morning yourself. So?"

"So what?"

"You can't cook."

"No. I'm the exception. How could you tell, anyway?" He goes to the cupboard and retrieves a glass, then stops at the fridge and pours himself some milk before he sits at the table, watching her as she turns back to the stove.

"Because you have utter rubbish in your fridge."

"What are you making there?"

"Egg sandwiches."

"What?"

"Egg, cheese and ham on a toasted bagel. Best I could do with what you have here."

"Sounds really good. I never would have thought of that."

"It's better than the ones you'd find at McDonald's."

"I bet it is," he says, angling his head, checking out her legs and rear.

"I know what you're doing back there," she says in a stern voice, but she turns and smiles at him.

"Me? I am innocent," he returns, wide-eyed, raising his hands up. She snorts, then comes to the table with two plates. She places one in front of him and sets the second plate down before walking back to retrieve her tea from where it was resting beside the stove. She sits down beside him and they eat together.

"Mmm. This is really good," he tells her after one bite.

"Thank you. It's nothing, really."

They hear a tiny _bleep_ from the living room. Arthur looks over. "What's that?"

"My phone. I'll bet that's Morgana," she says, getting up to go check. "Yep, she's sent a text." She brings it back to the table, and says, "Do you mind? I'll just let her know that you haven't taken me off somewhere to murder me and chop me into tiny bits."

"Please," he tells her, taking a drink of his milk.

Gwen reads the text. _How was he? ;)_ She chuckles, and writes: _Amazing. Both times._ Arthur leans over and reads the texts. He chokes on his milk and almost sprays the table.

Coughing, he says, "That doesn't look like 'He hasn't murdered me.'"

"Well, obviously she'll know that I'm still alive," she laughs.

"You are far naughtier than you let on, do you know that? First you tell Merlin that I was 'tied up,' and now this."

She continues laughing, and leans over to kiss him. She says, "Yes, and you love it."

"I do," he says and taps the end of her nose with his finger. He leans back and pops the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth.

She stands up and reaches for his plate. He grabs her hand. "I'll clean this up. Are you done?" He motions to the last half of her sandwich.

"Yes, you can finish it if you like. I'm going to go take a shower."

"Okay," he says, and as he watches her walk down the hall in his shirt, he thinks, _Wow, that was… domestic._ He smiles and picks up the remainder of her sandwich.

Gwen's loud laughter starts coming from the bathroom. Mouth full, he gets up and investigates. He finds her standing in the bathroom, a toothbrush in one hand and a rumpled slip of paper in the other, shaking her head.

"What is going on?" he asks, and she shows him the paper. It reads, _Just in case! –M._

"I didn't pack this, either. I just discovered it in the bottom of the bag she brought me. The note was wrapped around it."

"The woman must be a witch," Arthur says, grinning. Gwen finds the toothpaste and brushes. Arthur shrugs, _Well, if we're being domestic… _and joins her. When they finish, he leans over and kisses her properly.

"Much better," Gwen says, opening her eyes to look at him. He takes the toothbrush from her hand and puts it in the open slot next to his. She looks at it resting there, then back at him. Arthur holds his breath.

"I guess I'll need to go buy myself a new toothbrush today," she says, and kisses him. He breathes again, and turns to go clean up the dishes.

Back in the kitchen, Arthur brings the plates to the sink and hears the shower turn on. _Wait a minute._ He looks up from the sink, staring at nothing. _She's in there. Naked. And wet. And naked. What on earth am I doing out here?_ He leaves the dishes and struts down the hallway to the bathroom.

He reaches his hand to the knob. _Please don't be locked, please don't be locked, please don't be locked._ He turns it slowly and the door opens. _Yes._ She is humming to herself, not seeming to notice his entrance. He steps out of his shorts, pads silently to the tub and peeks through the curtain. Her back is to him, hair pinned up, as she soaps herself. Grinning, he steps in and slides his hands around her waist. She yelps.

"Managed to surprise you that time," he says, nuzzling her neck.

"A bit. Your hands are cold."

"A bit?"

"I left the door unlocked, didn't I?"

He growls at her, turning her around to face him for a kiss as he slides his hands around, enjoying the feel of her skin all wet and slippery. Her hands come up to his chest, then under his arms and around his back, and he pulls her flush against him, prodding her in the stomach with his stiff member. She slides against it, the water and soap causing a delicious slick sensation for him.

Gwen pulls away and reaches for the soap, getting her hands all sudsy. She rubs them all over his body, not missing an inch. Paying special attention to several inches, in fact. His head falls back and he croaks, "See? Naughty."

She turns him around to give his back the same treatment, then moves him so he is fully in the shower's spray, rinsing him. Once he is good and soap-free, she kneels down in front of him and takes him in her mouth, sucking and licking. Arthur groans and grabs the wall. She strokes him with her lips and tongue, holding and caressing his thighs, reaching up between them, and Arthur thinks he has lost his mind. The shower beating hot water down on his back combined with Gwen at his front is pushing him towards sensory overload and he feels he is getting close.

Gwen senses this as well, and replaces her mouth with her hand, standing to kiss him while her hand moves on him. His hands leave the walls and grab her as he comes, clinging tightly to her as he groans into her neck, pressing his lips against her as he does so. He leans back and puts his head under the spraying water, drenching him.

Arthur looks down at her, kisses her and says, "I've never gotten so clean in such a dirty way." Gwen grins like a minx and reaches for the shampoo, pouring some in her hand. She reaches up and suds his hair, massaging his head.

"You're too tall," she says, arms getting tired.

"You're too short," he counters, then lifts her up so she is standing on the edges of the tub, his hands supporting her as she shampoos him.

He leans his head back to rinse his hair, and she tries to hop down. He doesn't let her. He has too much access to her in this elevated position and he decides to take advantage. Arthur wipes the water from his eyes, then plunges into her breasts, placing kisses and bites over them. He moves one hand down between her legs, which are already spread since she has one leg on each tub edge. She moans, and he says, "Your turn," sliding his fingers inside, finding her warm and slippery.

She grabs his head in one hand, her other at his shoulder, gripping firmly with her small hand. He takes a nipple into his mouth, flicking at it, rubbing it, his tongue mirroring the action of his fingers below. It isn't long before she is gasping, her body twitching, and she hits her climax, digging her nails into his shoulder as she cries out and almost loses her footing. Arthur holds her safely in place as she briefly goes limp against him.

"Ouch," Arthur says for the third time now, and Gwen giggles again, "Sorry!"

He helps her down, gives her another kiss, and she rinses off a bit, then reaches to turn the water off.

"You can use my shampoo," Arthur offers, noticing she hasn't washed her hair.

"I know. I washed my hair yesterday. I can't wash it every day or it dries out," she explains.

"Oh, um, okay," he says as she turns the water off, pondering the mysteries of women and their beauty habits. He pulls the curtain back and steps out. He reaches for his towel and wraps it around his waist, then opens a small door and produces a clean towel, which he brings to her, wrapping her in it.

Arthur drives her home on his way to the firehouse. She decides to tell him of her worry.

"You know I'm going to jump every time I hear a siren now, don't you?" She looks over at him. He reaches to take her hand and bring it over to rest on his leg as he drives.

"I know," he says softly. He doesn't know how to reassure her in any way that she will accept. He strokes the back of her hand with his thumb.

Stopped at a traffic light, he looks over at her. She has her hair back in the same ponytail as before, wearing the grey skirt from last night with his t-shirt, on which she has rolled the sleeves up a little and has tied at the side of her waist. She looks incredibly cute and very worried. He leans over and kisses her just before the light changes.

"I promise if I go on any calls I will let you know that I am safe when I return," he finally says.

"Thank you," she looks down, biting her lower lip, wishing it was enough but knowing that there's not much else he can do. _It's his job. He must be good at it if he's been unscathed thus far._ "I don't want you to feel that I'm smothering you," she tells him, "I'm just a worrier by nature."

"Not at all," he says, reassuring her. "If you were out doing something dangerous – say you were a police officer – I would drive myself crazy thinking about what you might have to deal with."

She smiles again as he pulls onto her street. "Up there, the third on the left," she directs, and he pulls over. She turns to him and says, "I guess it's lucky for both of us that the biggest danger I face is possibly dropping a book on my foot or receiving the occasional paper cut."

Arthur laughs at this, then leans over to kiss her goodbye.

"Would you like to come up?" she asks, "Do you have time?"

He looks at his watch and frowns. "Better not. Plus I don't think I'm ready to face Morgana yet," he says and kisses her again.

She reaches up and hugs him as tightly as she can inside the car, kisses him one last time and tells him, "I love you. Be safe."

"I love you, too. See you Tuesday?"

"You need to ask?"

She gets out of the car and he watches her walk up to the building, seeing that she gets safely inside before driving away.


	9. Chapter 9

Gwen gets to her door and steels herself for the third degree. She opens the door to find Morgana perched on the sofa like a queen. She looks Gwen square in the eye and says, "Slut."

Gwen blushes, laughing at her friend's teasing. "Oh, it's much worse than that," she says and flops down on the chair, head leaning back.

Morgana's eyes widen and she says, "Oh. My. God. You're in love with him!"

Gwen rolls her head to the side to look at Morgana, saying, "Is it that obvious?"

"Well, let's see. You've spent the last…" she counts on her fingers, "eighteen hours together, including spending the entire night at his house and return in a blissful stupor _wearing his shirt. _Was he _that_ good?"

"It's more than that. Yes, the sex was good. Great. Fantastic. Best I've ever had. But there's so much _more_ to it. I can't explain it. It's all so fast; both our heads are just spinning trying to figure it out. You know me. You know I don't _do_ things like this."

"True. But you did. Twice."

"And kind of another time in the shower."

"Gwen!"

"I _know._ He says he never goes this fast either."

"They all say that."

"He wasn't just saying that."

"How do you know?"

"I told you. I can't explain it. I just do."

"So?"

"He has to work until Tuesday noon. I'll see him again then."

"It's probably good that you'll get a little break from each other."

"I don't know, maybe," she doesn't look convinced, though. "We totally understand each other, Morgana. You should have seen us at his apartment. It was like we had been together forever, married for 50 years."

"Except for the sex."

"Except for the sex," she repeats, agreeing. "It's like I've been looking for him my whole life. Only I didn't know it until I found him. I never realized that there was a piece of me that was missing until I saw him."

"Just be careful, Gwen. I don't want to see you hurt again," Morgana says, face now serious.

"I know. But I truly never felt this way about Lance."

"I know. I can see that. Really, I can."

"Morgana?"

"Yes, love?"

"Thanks for the toothbrush."

"It's still at his flat, isn't it?"

Gwen grins and stands up, walking back to her bedroom. She pops back out quickly and tells her, "Merlin asked for your number," before scurrying back to her room to change out of her skirt and into some shorts. She leaves the shirt on.

Arthur enters the firehouse at eleven fifty, greets the men on their way out and the few that are there for the next shift already. He takes his bag up to the bunkroom and drops it next to his bed. Then he flops down on it, throwing his arm over his eyes. He sighs and lies there for several minutes, thinking of his Guinevere. _My Guinevere,_ he thinks, realizing he is already placing her in his mind as his own.

A minute later, Merlin walks in, puts his things down and sits on the bunk next to Arthur. "Did you get _any_ sleep last night?"

"Oh, we slept all right," Arthur says, not lifting his arm.

"We? She stayed all night?"

Arthur removes his arm from his face and turns to grin at Merlin. He looks like the cat that got the canary. "Just dropped her off on my way here."

Merlin stares, mouth open. "Who _are_ you?"

Arthur sits up and faces him, laughing. "I know! I never do things like this. She's just... different. Magical. I don't know, something. She says she's not this way either. We've both lost our minds."

"Well, of course she'd _say_ that," Merlin says.

"No. She's not just saying it. I'm sure of that."

"How?"

"I... don't know. It's like... we're somehow connected. Like we always have been and it just... took us a while to find each other," he says, haltingly, trying to find a way to verbalize his feelings in a way that his friend can understand. "I don't think I was complete until I met her, you know?" He is looking at his hands, picking at his fingernails.

"No. But I'm trying. You know what you sound like, don't you?"

"A crazy person?"

"No, you sound like you're in love with this woman."

Arthur looks up at Merlin, his face serious. "I am."

"Does she feel the same way?"

"Yes."

"You didn't..."

"I did. So did she." He sighs. "It's all just so weird, but in a really, really good way."

"When you ladies are finished making out, lunch is on," a voice calls from the doorway.

"Thanks, Wayne." Arthur calls back, then turns to Merlin. "I'm starving."

"I'll bet you are," Merlin laughs.


	10. Chapter 10

Arthur sends Gwen a text message Sunday evening. _No calls today. Still alive._

Monday comes and goes. He calls her around lunchtime to hear her voice. She can tell he is squirreled away someplace private to avoid the inevitable teasing he surely would receive should the other guys hear him. He asks after her day, telling her that since it is raining, he's been spending his day playing video games. He tells her that he misses her. He attempted to make an egg sandwich for himself that morning and he _almost_ got it. His egg got all stuck to the pan, and she informs him that he needs to put butter in first, laughing at how cute he must have looked trying to cook.

She gets another text from him Monday night. _One call. Car fire. Could have peed it out._ She laughs at this, then her phone bleeps again. _I love you._

Tuesday morning, she is getting anxious, knowing that she'll be seeing him today. Merlin is taking Morgana out for dinner and "whatever" tonight, so she plans to cook Arthur dinner at her apartment. She hasn't heard from him yet today, but as she didn't hear from him until noon yesterday, she tries not to think about it. _Silly girl,_ she chides herself.

Shortly after ten o'clock, a man walks into the library with a flower delivery. Gwen is at the circulation desk, and he walks up to her, setting it down.

"I have a delivery for… Gwen Thomas?" he says, checking the order.

"That's me," she says, "thank you."

"Good morning," he says, turning to leave.

She smiles, looking at them. Orange Peruvian lilies and yellow and white Gerbera daisies. _Anyone else would have sent roses,_ she thinks, loving his originality. She finds the card and opens it. _Don't eat lunch. –A._ Grinning like an idiot, she takes the vase back to her office. She is intercepted by one of the college students working there for the summer.

"Who are those for?" she asks.

"Me," Gwen says.

"Really?"

She stops. "Why is that so surprising, Vivian?"

"Oh. Um, it's not. I guess I just didn't realize you had a boyfriend."

"Maybe I have a secret admirer," she says cheekily.

"Do you?"

"No." She walks into her office, smiling, and puts them on her desk.

Twenty minutes past twelve, Arthur strolls into the library. He doesn't see Gwen. Behind the desk is a perky little blonde, all breasts and eyes, cute as a button. Exactly Arthur's type. Exactly his type before he met Gwen, that is, and he looks past the blonde in hopes of catching a glimpse of her.

When he reaches the desk, she smiles sweetly at him and says, "Can I help you?"

"Yes, is Gwen available?" he asks her, barely even looking at her. His eyes are busy scanning the lobby for glimpses of Guinevere. Motion catches the corner of his eye and he looks, hoping that it's Gwen, only to see yet another blonde, taller and more athletic, saunter behind the counter and pick up some books, sorting.

"I'll get her," she says, disappointed, and vanishes into the little hallway leading to her office.

He smiles vaguely at the other girl, who smiles back and returns to what she's doing.

"Gwen," Vivian calls into her office.

"Hmm?"

"There is a totally hot guy out here asking for you."

"Totally?" she looks up.

"_Totally._"

Gwen looks at her computer screen. She's in the middle of an email, and sighs. "Tell him I'll be out in a minute, I just need to finish this email."

Back out front, Vivian sashays up to the mysterious stranger and tells him, "She'll be out in a minute. She's finishing an email. Oh, and she asked me to give you this." She reaches under the desk, trying in vain to flash her cleavage at him, and gives him a form. It's for a library card.

Arthur takes it and laughs. "May I borrow a pen?"

Vivian hands him a pen and asks, "Is there anything... else I can do for you?"

"No, I'm fine, thanks," he says, not looking up from his paper. She flounces away with a _humph._

Gwen comes out from the back and Arthur looks up the instant she appears. He lights up as he watches her approach. The look in his eyes would melt iron.

"Hi," she says, "thank you for the flowers. I love them."

"You're very welcome." He frowns at the page and says, "Do I really need to fill this out?"

"Yes. You'll be receiving no special treatment here," she teases.

He leans in close and whispers, "I rather think I've _already_ received some special treatment here."

Gwen blushes and laughs, and heads turn, as usual. "Just fill out the damn form."

"Yes, ma'am."

They are being watched with interest. Vivian mutters, "Elana, I don't get it."

"What don't you get?"

"I'm much prettier than she is, but he looked right through me. And do you _see_ how he looks at _her?_" She is pouting.

"Well, apparently she has something that you don't."

"And what is that?"

"His interest."

"But _why?_"

"Vivian, stop whining. You can't get every man you see, you know."

Gwen hands Arthur his freshly minted library card, and turns to the girls. "I'm going to lunch. Be back in a bit."

"Aren't you going to introduce us?" Vivian asks.

Gwen tries not to roll her eyes. Vivian wears on her nerves and she cannot wait until the fall and she goes back to University.

"Arthur, this is Vivian and Elana," she says, indicating who is who with her hand.

"Ladies, this is Arthur."

"Hello," he says.

"Did you send the flowers?" Vivian asks.

"Gwen got flowers?" Elana looks at Gwen.

"Yes, I sent the flowers. Nice to meet you both, but if you will excuse us, I am very hungry." He turns to Gwen, "Shall we go?"

"Please," she says, and walks around to the front of the desk. He puts his hand on the small of her back possessively and they walk toward the door.

The door slides open and an older gentleman walks slowly in, canvas bags laden with books in each hand. "Good afternoon, Gwen," he says.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Gaius," she replies warmly, and stops walking. "Honestly, why do you always borrow more books than you can carry?" She reaches for one of the bags.

"Here, let me," Arthur steps up and takes both bags from him.

"Dr. Gaius, this is my friend, Arthur. Arthur, this is Henry Gaius. He comes in here at least once a week. I think he devours books." She smiles at the old man.

Arthur sets one bag down and shakes his hand, "Nice to meet you, sir." He then picks up the bags and carries them to the desk, swinging them up onto the counter as if they weighed very little. Vivian and Elana stare, mostly at his biceps, and he turns and walks back over to Gwen, putting his hand around her shoulders.

"Thank you, young man," Gaius tells him.

"No problem at all," Arthur replies.

"Now make sure you don't take too many this time," Gwen warns playfully, then squeezes his elbow gently in a friendly way as she and Arthur head out the door.

Gaius turns to watch them go, his face wearing a knowing smile.

"Nice ass," Elana whispers to Vivian.

Once outside, Arthur turns to Gwen and asks, "Where would you like to go?"

"There's a sandwich shop up the street a few blocks. We could walk."

"Sounds good," he says. He really wants to take her to the back seat of his car, but he wasn't lying when he said he was hungry.

It is a very warm day, and Gwen peels her sweater off and ties it around her waist. She is wearing a sundress underneath, simple and long, flowing and lovely.

"Did you want to leave that back inside?" he asks.

"No, it'll probably be cold in the restaurant." She slips her hand into his and they walk up the sidewalk.

Gwen bites her lower lip. _I really wants to kiss him,_ she thinks, _but not out here in front of the world._ Then she remembers that there is an empty storefront ahead, with a recessed doorway. As they approach it, she steps to the right, pulling him with her.

"What– oh!" Arthur is surprised at how strong she is as he is yanked sideways into a dark alcove.

Gwen drops his hand, brings her arms up around his neck and kisses him. He holds her, tongue plunging into her mouth as they kiss hungrily, the last 48 hours having felt like 48 years. He leans into her, dipping her, supporting her body with his arms as she molds her body to his.

Pulling away gently, he tells her, "I missed you, Guinevere."

"I can tell," she grins, pressing her hips against the evidence she feels between them. "I missed you, too." She kisses him softly and nuzzles his nose with her own.

Once Arthur's arousal has calmed down, they continue on to their lunch. Arthur has a roast beef sandwich, Gwen orders a club sandwich. Arthur carries their food back to a secluded table in the corner, where Gwen puts her sweater back on, much to his amusement. They sit close together, and Gwen intentionally rests her knee against his.

As they eat, Arthur realizes that although they are completely at ease with one another, they really don't know many things about each other. So he looks at her and says, "Favorite color?"

"Lavender."

"Red. Your turn."

"Um, favorite food?" Gwen asks, understanding the game.

A: Steak.

G: Peanut butter.

A: Really?

G: Yes. Now you.

A: Hobbies?

G: I cook. And I like gardening, though I don't have a garden of my own yet.

A: Well, sports, but you know that. I like to build things. I used to play the piano.

G: Used to?

A: No piano.

G: Too bad. Dogs or cats?

A: Dogs.

G: Dogs as well. Allergic to cats.

A: Hmm… what's the most embarrassing song on your iPod?

G: Ooh, good one. Let me see… …oh. "Du" by David Hasselhoff.

A: (laughing in disbelief) Oh, now, that's _much_ worse than mine.

G: What is yours?

A: "Sexyback" by Justin Timberlake.

G: That's not so bad. I mean, unless you're dancing around your flat with it blasting, blinds drawn.

A: …

G: You do!

A: Just the one time. And I was half in the bag at the time.

G: (laughing) Please don't tell me this happened last week.

A: No! It was like three years ago. Just after a bad breakup.

G: Well, then I absolve you. What kind of music do you like, anyway?

A: I actually tend to prefer old punk music, you know, from like the late 1970s and early 80s. Sex Pistols, Wire, The Clash, you know?

G: Good stuff.

A: Some newer stuff is pretty good, too. I like Elbow. And the Beastie Boys. How about you?

G: I actually can't answer my own question! I don't have any one kind of music I like. A person could get whiplash listening to my iPod on shuffle.

A: So, David Hasselhoff, then?

G: Just the one song. And with him are Nine Inch Nails, Dolly Parton, Igor Stravinsky, Simon and Garfunkel, Metallica and Lionel Hampton. To name a few. And Justin Timberlake.

A: "Sexyback?"

G: "What Goes Around Comes Around."

Arthur guffaws at this, and pops the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth. Gwen grabs his arm to look at his watch.

"Time to go?" he frowns.

"Almost. Are you pouting?"

"No." He straightens his face out and reaches for one of her uneaten chips. She grabs it instead and feeds it to him.

As they walk back to the library, Gwen asks, "Will you come over for dinner tonight?"

"Of course. Your place?"

"Yes."

"And Morgana?"

"He didn't tell you? She and Merlin are going out tonight."

"That little…"

Gwen laughs, amused by Arthur's ire at his friend.

"What time?" he asks. They are outside the library now. He turns and takes both her hands in his.

"I'm done at five tonight, so, six?"

"Six it is."

"And none of that 45-minutes-early nonsense this time, either," she grins at him. He pouts again.

"Morgana would still be there then, anyway."

"Ah."

"I'd better get back in."

"I know." He looks down at her.

_Hell with it,_ she thinks, and lifts up on tiptoes to receive his kiss, which is soft and loving. He pulls back, breaking contact, and says, "They're watching us inside."

"I know. I don't care." She kisses him one last time and turns towards the door.

"Six o'clock," he says, holding on to her hand as she walks to the door. Once she can no longer reach, he releases it and watches her walk inside.


	11. Chapter 11

Gwen is puttering in the kitchen: setting the table, keeping an eye on the chicken, putting water on to boil for the rice noodles, chopping vegetables, preparing the dessert so she can pop it in the oven when they start eating.

Morgana wanders in. "How do I look?" She spins. She is wearing a flattering emerald green spaghetti strap sundress with a handkerchief hemline. Her hair is in loose waves and she looks spectacular.

"Fabulous. He's going to faint at the sight of you."

"Not _quite_ the reaction I have in mind, but thank you," she looks at Gwen. "Aren't you going to dress up for Arthur?"

"No. I don't think I am, actually." She is wearing khaki shorts and a black halter top that is cut low in the back, exposing a great deal of her caramel-skinned back. _I know he'll at like this one,_ she had thought when she pulled it from the wardrobe. She has an apron on as well, and is barefoot.

"Why not?"

"I don't think he expects me to. Plus I just don't want to," she says, frowning slightly.

"Well, I suppose, if your clothes are just going to end up in a heap on the floor after ten minutes…"

"Morgana!"

The door buzzes. "Saved by the bell," Gwen says.

"You go get the door. I want to make an entrance," Morgana says and trots away.

"'Course you do," Gwen mutters as she goes to the door, spoon in hand.

She opens the door. "Merlin, so good to see you."

"Hello, Gwen," he leans down and gives her a friendly kiss on the cheek. She steps to the side to allow him in.

"Morgana," she calls, and then tells Merlin, "She won't be a minute. Have a seat."

He sits. "What are you cooking?"

"Thai peanut chicken. Arthur's not allergic to peanuts, is he?" she asks, suddenly remembering a question she _should_ have asked at lunch.

"Nah, he loves them. It's shellfish he has to watch out for."

"No shellfish," she repeats, making a mental note with a nod. Just then Morgana comes sweeping into the room. Merlin stands, eyes wide.

"Hello Merlin," she says, walking over to him for a hug.

"You look beautiful, Morgana," Merlin tells her, giving her the hug she has come looking for. "Ready?"

"Yes, let's go." She takes his arm, saying, "Have a _good time,_ Gwen," as they walk out the door.

Gwen sighs and walks back to the kitchen. Five minutes later the door buzzes again. Five-forty. She rolls her eyes but she is smiling as she goes to the door.

"You have a serious punctuality problem, you know that?" she grins at him as she opens the door.

"Next time I'll be late, then," he threatens, grinning back. He is wearing cargo shorts, a blue striped t-shirt, and brown leather flip-flops. She closes the door, smiling at the fact that he also went casual. He has a bottle in his hand. She peers at it, puzzling.

"Non-alcoholic," Arthur says, brandishing it for her to inspect the label. He takes his shoes off out of habit, sets the bottle on a side table and grabs her around the waist.

"So, were you just parked out there waiting for them to leave?"

"Maybe." He leans down and kisses her. _She smells like chicken and peanut butter._ He smiles into the kiss, then probes in with his tongue, and she parts her lips, meeting his tongue with her own. His hands find her bare back and he groans as he caresses the expanse of skin he has discovered.

Gwen is tempted to let another of Morgana's predictions come true and start peeling off garments, but dinner will burn if they do. She pulls away, saying, "I have to finish making our dinner."

He reluctantly lets her go and follows her to the kitchen. "Can I help?" he offers.

"No."

"Good," he answers, sitting at the table. She laughs.

He watches her, eyes roving over her bare shoulder blades moving beneath her gorgeous skin as she works, her round backside hiding beneath her shorts, down her legs, long and slender but not skinny, down to her bare feet. _Will I ever get tired of just looking at her?_ he wonders. _God, I hope not._

He finds some matches and lights the candles she has put on the table as she removes her apron and brings the food. He is very impressed. Like many who cannot cook, he loves to eat and loves that Gwen apparently knows her way around the kitchen quite well.

"This is really good," he compliments her, mouth full of noodles.

"Thank you. It's actually really easy."

"I'm sure I'd find a way to mess it up," he laughs.

"You never know. But probably," she smirks at him. She reaches out with her foot and slides it up his calf under the table. His eyes fly to her, wide with surprise, but she just smiles down at her plate, stabbing a piece of chicken with her fork.

They eat and chat, Gwen's small feet teasing his under the table from time to time. When they are almost finished, a timer dings.

"Ah. Dessert," Gwen says, standing.

"I was thinking I'd have you for dessert, Guinevere," Arthur tells her, turning in his seat to see what she's pulling from the oven. Mostly he's just watching her bend over.

"Maybe later," she flirts, setting the tray on the stove returning to the table.

"Maybe?"

She laughs.

"So what _is_ dessert, then?" He can't quite make out what is cooling on the stovetop.

"Warm chocolate pudding cakes with vanilla ice cream and caramel sauce," she says casually.

"Wow. You didn't have to go to so much trouble for me," he puts his hand on hers.

"I wanted to. I like to. It really was nothing, honest," she says, and he picks up her hand and kisses it.

"Well, then, let's have it. If I stop eating this now I'll still have room," he leans back and rubs his belly. She stands and whacks him playfully on the shoulder as she goes back to prepare the dessert.

He helps with the dishes after dinner, enjoying standing so close to her at the sink. He washes; she dries and puts things away. They have that comfortable domestic feeling again. _Wonder if she feels the same way?_ he thinks. He asks.

"You know this is weird, right?"

"What is?"

"Us. One minute we can't keep our hands off of each other and the next we're behaving like an old married couple." He is a bit nervous about bringing up the 'M' word on what is technically their second date. Third, if you count lunch.

"Weird in a good way?" she asks, not quite sure where he's going in this train of thought.

"Oh, in the best way possible, sorry! I didn't mean that I don't like it. Because I do. A lot. But even Sunday morning I noticed it. Being with you is… effortless."

She turns from the silverware drawer, towel in hand. She flips the towel around the back of his neck, grabs an end in each hand and pulls his head down to hers with it. She kisses him again, sweetly, as if he was the most precious thing in the world to her.

The dishes are done, and Gwen picks up her glass and walks to the living room.

"I ate too much," Arthur says as he follows her. He is tempted to pick her up and carry her back to her bedroom, but he decides to let his food settle a bit first. _Like swimming. Best to wait a bit before diving in._

"Well, you didn't have to eat yourt entire cake, plus the rest of mine," she laughs at him.

A framed photo on a table catches his eye as he approaches the couch. He bends and picks it up. It is a family photo. There is a handsome man with brown skin and Gwen's smile standing beside a beautiful woman with medium brown wavy hair, fair skin and the same almond-shaped eyes as Gwen. Between them are two latte-colored cherubs. He carries it with him to the couch and sits beside Gwen.

"This you?" he points to the little girl in the photo.

"Yes. This was our last family photo before my mother took ill. I was six."

"She was very pretty," he says.

"Yes. Inside, too."

"What did she die of?"

"Bone cancer."

"That's a rough one."

"Very."

"You have a brother." Not a question.

"Yes, that's my younger brother Elliot. He was four when this was taken."

"Wait. Elliot _Thomas?"_

"Obviously."

"The rugby player?"

"Yes," she says, rolling her eyes. She has been down this road many times.

"_Your_ brother is the 'Bad Boy of British Rugby?'"

"Yes," she sighs. "He's really a good man, though. His heart is usually in the right place, even if the rest of him isn't."

Arthur laughs at this, then asks, "So what does your father do?"

"He owns GE Die Casting."

"I've heard of them. Hey, I've always wondered: what does GE stand for?"

"Guinevere and Elliot."

"Of course."

"He likes to tell people that he's a blacksmith. Thinks it's funny," she smirks. "He has a weird sense of humor."

"Sounds like you get on well with him," he says, setting the picture back where he found it.

"Yes, most of the time."

"I look forward to meeting him one day," he ventures.

"I'm sure that can be arranged," she smiles. "What about your father? What does he do?"

"He works at a bank," he says.

_He's not telling me something._ "At a bank? What does he do there?" she prods.

"Well, he um… owns Camelot bank."

"That's a large bank."

"Yes. You can imagine his joy when he learned that I was not going to be entering the family business."

_There it is._ "You're your own man, surely you can make your own decisions, right?"

"That's what I said. I think what irritates him the most is the fact that I _could_ do the job. Easily. I just don't _want_ it."

"You have to do what makes you happy. I could be something grander than a librarian, but it's what I love to do." She pauses, then ventures, "There's some stress between the two of you, isn't there?"

"You might say that. My father loves me, I know this, but he was demanding and over-protective when I was growing up. I think when my mother died, a large part of his heart died with her. I am the only thing he has of her."

"You have no brothers or sisters?"

"No, just me. My father doesn't talk about her at all, but from what I've gathered, she had difficulty conceiving. So I was their first child, and since my father never remarried, his last." He reaches for his wallet and pulls out a small, slightly worn picture that he hands to Gwen. "He burned all their photos after she died, but I managed to find this one that he missed."

She looks at the photo, feeling so sad for Arthur. His mother was breathtaking, with blonde hair and eyes the same curious shade of blue as Arthur's. "She was beautiful," she says as she looks up at Arthur and puts her hand to his cheek. "You look so like her."

He smiles as she hands him back his photo. He tucks it gently into his wallet.


	12. Chapter 12

They sit quietly for a moment, still pondering the strange coincidence about their mothers. _I need to hold him._ Gwen leans over and puts her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder. He kisses her forehead, and notices a scar there, about an inch long, faint but there.

"Where did you get this?" he pokes it with his finger.

"I walked into the kitchen table when I was three," she tells him. He laughs, and she protests, "I suppose you have no scars from something dumb you accidentally did as a child?"

Arthur shifts position, and Gwen leaves his shoulder. He puts his foot across her knees, pointing to a long scar on his shin.

"That's a nice one," she tells him, running her finger along the line.

"Fell out of a tree when I was eight. My leg hit the edge of a large rock when I hit the ground. Eleven stitches. I broke my arm, too," he grins at her.

"I bet your dad was furious," she laughs.

"Livid," he is also laughing. He takes his leg off her lap and reaches down to pick up her legs to put them across his.

"I don't have any scars on my legs," she tells him, but somehow she has a feeling that's not what he has in mind.

"I know. I've looked," he says, running his hand up the side of her leg, caressing the skin he loves so much, higher, up to her thigh. _Good thing I took the ten minutes when I got home to hop in the shower and shave,_ she can't help thinking. His touch makes her warm all over, and he leans over to kiss her. _I'm a bit helpless in this position,_ she realizes. Her eyes open wide. _I trust him. With my life. I've known him a few days and already I trust him more than I ever did Lance. Ha. Lance who?_ Her eyes drift back closed as she kisses him back hungrily, tongues warm and wet, feeling pushing thought out the door.

Arthur breaks the kiss, sitting upright again. He has a sly look in his eyes, and he brings his hands down to one foot and starts massaging it. Gwen remembers what he said Saturday night about her toes, and watches him, curious about what he is going to do.

His hands are warm and strong; her feet feel small and slender beneath them. He scoots further down the sofa so she is not sitting so awkwardly, and runs his thumb along her arch, pressing the muscles there. Gwen decides to lean back and enjoy herself, and she closes her eyes. _It does feel quite good,_ she thinks. She is on her feet a lot at the library and he seems to know what he is doing. He presses his palm along her heel, rubs the balls of her foot with his thumbs. Suddenly she feels something warm and wet slick itself along her arch followed by a kiss on the side of her big toe. _Did he just…?_ She jumps in surprise at first, then smiles, never realizing how pleasurable such an odd action could feel. She closes her eyes again as a couple of her toes find their way into his mouth, where he gently sucks and nibbles at them while his hands continue to knead the small muscles of her foot. He places a kiss on her instep and then moves on to its mate, repeating his actions. She presses her released foot gently against his groin and he groans softly against the foot now in his hands.

Having contented himself with her feet, he starts working his way back to her head. He crawls across the couch towards her, kissing his way up her legs as far as he can go before her shorts get in the way. _Stupid shorts,_ he thinks as he drops a kiss on her stomach, still covered, and places another one between the tops of her breasts, which are not. Her hands dive into his hair as he works his way up her collarbones to her neck, and finally to her waiting lips.

There is rattling at the door, and it opens. Morgana is back. There is no childish embarrassed jumping apart, however. Arthur merely drops his head onto Gwen's shoulder in dismay and slowly slides off of her and they both return to a seated position on the couch.

"Morgana, it's only nine-thirty!" Gwen says, surprised.

"Sorry," she says, "Hello, Arthur."

"Hi, Morgana," he manages half a smile.

"Date not go well?" Gwen asks.

"Well, not really. I'm sorry Arthur, I know he's your mate, but he's just not… I don't know… _interesting_ enough for me."

"That's too bad," Gwen says.

"I don't think he was too keen on me, either, frankly," Morgana admits, frowning slightly.

"Why do you think that?" Arthur asks.

"Because I'm home at nine-bloody-thirty!" she sighs, and Arthur laughs.

"I'm sorry things didn't go better," he says. _She would have eaten him alive,_ he thinks.

"Merlin is very sweet, polite, intelligent, cute… But there was just no spark. You know?" Morgana plops down on a chair.

Gwen looks at Arthur and answers, "Yes, I know." They both feel their own spark as they look at each other.

Morgana stands up again. "I'm going out to the club," she announces.

"Alone?" Gwen asks. _No, no, no… _Arthur thinks, _I am not going anywhere and neither are you._

"No, I'll call Elizabeth. She's always up for it. We'll take a cab, I promise." Arthur breathes again as Morgana strides back to her room to change and make a call.

"I wasn't going to suggest we accompany her," Gwen tells him once Morgana is gone.

"I wasn't worried," Arthur lies.

"Liar," she says, shoving his shoulder with a grin.

"Then what _were_ you thinking?"

"We'd just go to your place."

"Ah."

Morgana comes back out, chatting on the phone. She's put on flat sandals, and pulled her hair back, but has left the green dress on.

"Okay, I'll see you in fifteen minutes. 'Bye." She hangs up the phone. "I won't interrupt you two any more. And Gwen, don't forget to lock your bedroom door when you go back there or you might find yourself with a third once I come home," she teases, mostly for shock value. Arthur made the mistake of taking a drink while she was talking and was now coughing, Gwen pounding his back. Morgana floats out the door, laughing.


	13. Chapter 13

"She was kidding, right?" he asks once he is able to speak again.

"Not entirely sure, to be honest. If she's intending to drink…" she leaves it hanging.

"Your door _does_ have a lock, doesn't it?"

She kisses him. "Yes."

"Good." He kisses her, then grabs her hand and pulls her up from the couch. He looks down at her and says, "I'd carry you off again, but I am at a disadvantage here."

"What's that?"

"I don't know which room is yours."

She takes his hand and pulls him down the hall to her room. She closes the door and locks it as loudly and deliberately as she can manage, making Arthur laugh. He looks around her room. It is very cozy and comfortable. No frills or girlish nonsense, apart from a lone stuffed bear sitting on the lavender coverlet on the bed. It is wearing a rugby jersey. Arthur walks to it and picks it up. He raises an eyebrow at her.

"It's from my brother," she explains. "I don't see him much, so he gave me the bear to remember him by."

Arthur sets it on the nightstand. He regards the bear for a moment. Then he reaches back down to it and turns it so it is facing the corner. Gwen laughs, finding this little bit of foolishness sweet.

"He hasn't got a hidden camera inside," she teases him, walking towards him. He laughs, but leaves the bear facing the wall nevertheless.

As soon as she is within reach, he pulls her towards him, hands roving again on her bare back. He is looking down at her, eyes smoldering. She can feel the heat in his gaze. _God, the way he looks at me… Will we always want each other with such intensity?_

He turns them around, gently pushing her toward the bed. He eases them down on top of it, kissing her as he does so. Her hands go up to his neck, holding gently, stroking the sensitive flesh at his nape, threading her hands up through his hair. She drops one to his waist and deftly unbuttons his fly with one hand. He reaches for her top, pulling himself from her to ease it over her head. She pulls his shirt off of him and while he drops his shorts and underwear, she quickly whisks back the bed covers before he comes back to her, pressing her against the pillows.

He slides his hands down her torso, reaching her shorts, which are still on. "No fair," he mutters, opening them and sliding them down her legs, wanting to see what she has on under them today. No thong this time, but he is equally aroused by the hipster boyleg panties she has on, and he admires them for a second before placing a kiss just below her navel and sliding them off as well.

"No thong today," Gwen says, almost apologetic.

"I like these, too," he grins down at her, the garment hanging from his finger for a moment before he flings them to the floor. He leans down and kisses her stomach again, briefly dipping his tongue into her belly button.

"You're very interested in my knickers, aren't you?" she laughs.

"A bit," he admits, "but I'm mostly interested in their contents." She laughs some more, but it abruptly turns to a gasp when Arthur dips his head further down, burying his face between her legs, tongue probing and sliding around her most intimate parts in a way that causes her breath to come in rasps as her head presses deeper into the pillow, her back arching.

He reaches up with one hand to caress a breast, thumb rubbing across her nipple, fingers squeezing and stroking. His other hand joins his tongue, sliding a finger into her as his tongue continues its sweet torment. The combination of sensations makes her cry out, and her legs reflexively squeeze Arthur's head between them, causing him to squeak a bit in the back of his throat.

"Oh," she breathes, and relaxes her thighs. He chuckles, kissing her once more. He emerges and plants a few kisses on her inner thighs before sliding himself up over her, running his chest along hers, his light chest hair tickling her sensitive skin. She squirms beneath him, eyes closed, smiling.

She opens her eyes and lifts her head to his muscular neck, bestowing open-mouthed kisses on the flesh there, tasting the salt on his skin with her tongue. Her lips burn into his flesh, and he drops down a bit to make it easier for her to reach him. She reaches down for him with one hand, holding him gently for a moment before starting to move her hand, stroking him, bringing forth a groan from him. Then, much to his surprise, she guides him to her, stroking herself with him, giving them both pleasure as she bites his neck gently.

"Still naughty…" he repeats again, smiling and breathless. He pushes forward slightly, entering her with just the tip of his shaft. She gasps, raking her nails down his back lightly, conveying her approval. He pulls back and repeats the tiny intrusion again as she gropes for the now-familiar plastic and foil packets in the nightstand drawer. He slips back out and slides his erection along her one more time before rolling them over, pulling her on top of him. He grabs her sides and pulls her upward so her breasts are over his face. He latches on to one of them with his mouth, the other with a hand as she straddles his stomach, head back.

"Arthur…" she gasps, and the sound of her throaty voice breathing his name that way pushes him to the limit. He needs to be as close to her as is humanly possible. _Now._

He lets her go and she rolls to the side, opening the packet, actually fumbling with it a little bit because his hand has found his way back between her legs, distracting her. She manages to keep her eyes locked on his the entire time she gets him prepared. He rolls her on to her other side, facing away from him and spoons up behind her. His skin is hot against her back.

"What— ohhh…" she says when he gently takes her top leg and raises it up so that he can enter her from behind. She instinctively bends her knee and wraps her foot back around his legs. He rocks into her a few times, planting kisses on her neck, one hand under her head, resting lightly on her shoulder. His other hand is caressing her breast as he thrusts, then it seems to get a better idea because it moves down her stomach to stroke her from the front while he drives from behind.

She cries out when he does this, turning her head to the side. Her chin brushes against his fingertips, and she reaches down with her mouth and takes a finger, sucking at it, gently biting the tip. The simple action makes him pump harder, more ardently, and she can feel the fire growing in her belly again as he whispers her full name in her ear. She reaches back and grabs his rear in her hand, squeezing, feeling, pushing. Her climax hits her like a volcano, hot and liquid, and he comes as well, his hand leaving her and gripping her midsection tightly while his shout joins her frenzied gasps.

He holds her like this, tightly joined, for several minutes. He buries his face in her hair at the back of her neck, relishing her scent and the feel of her hair against his face. She runs her hand along his arm that is around her, resting it there. After their breathing returns to normal, he simply says, "Wow," and slides out of her.

Once some basic matters are attended, they return to Gwen's bed and snuggle together under the covers, facing each other again. Gwen has pulled her hair back into a braid so it doesn't get in the way and turn into a tangled mess. _Mmm, neck,_ Arthur thinks and starts planting sweet kisses along the exposed flesh to which he now has easy access.

"Arthur…" she warns.

"Yes?" he says, looking down at her, making his eyes wide and innocent.

"You are incorrigible."

"Yes," he agrees, but settles down. He is young and virile, but he is also sleepy. _Maybe later._

"Eight," she says, smiling.

"Eight what?"

"Kisses on my neck just now."

Arthur bursts forth with a loud guffaw. He had forgotten about her counting. _Good Lord, what else has she counted?_ he suddenly wonders. _I best not ask._ He gives her a squeeze.

They hold each other, hands absentmindedly caressing here and there. They do not talk, but neither do they feel awkward in their silence. They are just enjoying being together.

"Arthur?" Gwen says after a bit. Something is on her mind.

"Yes, love?"

"Are we crazy?"

"Yes, I think we are."

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

"Arthur…"

"I know. But can you think of a better explanation? Something logical that would explain why we have both completely taken leave of our usual behaviors and, let's face it, morals? Something that would explain why I feel more comfortable with you than anyone I've ever known, including Merlin, who I've known since I was twelve? Something that would explain why I never realized that I wasn't a complete person until I met you?" He is gazing intently at her, his eyes shining in the dark of her room.

His words bring tears to her eyes and her heart seems to swell, as if it wants to burst out of her chest and swallow him whole. "No," she says, "I can't. But if we are crazy, it's the best kind of crazy, the kind that everyone should be so lucky to experience. I love you. I've known it since you smiled at me when we were dancing Friday night. I stopped breathing. And when I started again, it was like…" she trails off, not sure if she should say what she is thinking.

"Like my body didn't need oxygen any more. All it needs is you," Arthur says, finishing her thought, and she looks up at him suddenly, realizing that he can read her mind as much as she can his.

"Yes."

"That's how I felt the instant I looked into your eyes after asking to buy you a drink."

"We are screwed," she laughs into his chest, kissing it. He laughs with her, and reaches between them to take her hand and hold it to his heart.

"Yeah," he agrees, and kisses her. "I love you, too, Guinevere."

They drift off to sleep.


	14. Chapter 14

Noises outside the bedroom door wake them. Morgana is home. Gwen just gives an exasperated sigh and cuddles back into Arthur's arms, unconcerned. Arthur lays awake, refusing to go back to sleep until he knows that they are safe from an attempted intrusion. He stares at the ceiling. _I don't hear any talking; her friend must not have come in with her. Bathroom door? Yes, running water. And that's the toilet. Please, please, please. Good. I'm sure that was her door. Thank God._

He looks down to see Gwen looking up at him, watching him, highly amused.

"You were worried," she says, smirking.

"Okay, yes, I was. That would have been fourteen different shades of awkward."

"You don't like Morgana?" she's teasing him now.

"I like her fine, but that doesn't mean I'm interested in _her_ knickers. Or their contents."

Gwen laughs at this. Then she muses, "Most of the time men are falling all over themselves to get _her_ attention and I fall to the wingman's responsibility. So this is quite a change for me. She is generally more charismatic than I am."

"When I saw you in the club on Friday, I didn't even notice she was there until Merlin pointed her out."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. She is beautiful, yes, but to me she's nothing more than a thousand other pretty faces. You, on the other hand, are simply exquisite. Fascinating. Unique. Gorgeous."

"Stop," she protests, unaccustomed to such praise. He presses his lips together, exaggeratedly demonstrating his compliance to her request. She smacks his shoulder lightly and he leans down to kiss her. He intends it to be a small and simple kiss, but it starts to linger and intensify, until they are groping at each other again. He pushes his hips forward and she feels his arousal, and they end up making love again in the middle of the night, quietly, gently, sweetly.

Arthur opens his eyes and looks around. Something is different. He knows exactly where he is, that's not the problem. His arms are empty. He looks and sees no sign of her.

Eight fifty-one. _She probably had to go to work,_ he thinks, frowning. He sits up and listens. No sound. Either Morgana is asleep or she is gone as well. He turns to exit the bed and sees that blasted bear staring at him, holding a folded piece of paper with his name on it. He rolls his eyes and takes the paper, which feels curiously heavy, and opens it.

_I tried to wake you, but you were out cold. Had to go to work. Help yourself to anything you need, and please lock up when you leave. M is at work as well. Love you, G._ There is a key taped to the paper.

He smiles and gets up, padding naked down the hall to the bathroom. He uses the toilet, and sees there is a fresh towel folded on the vanity with a new toothbrush, red, sitting on top of it. He chuckles and turns on the shower.

Now clean, he returns to her room to put his clothes back on. Then he makes her bed, replacing the bear on the coverlet where he found it last night. He takes one last look around her room, making sure everything is in order, and then he wanders out to the kitchen, key in his pocket.

He pokes around a bit and finds a box of cereal and a bowl. He would normally take it to the living room and flip on the television, but as this isn't his home, he eats at the table, idly flipping through a ladies' fashion magazine addressed to Morgana. He looks at his phone. _One missed call._ Merlin called while he was in the shower, so Arthur rings him back while he finishes the cereal.

"Are you STILL with her?" Merlin accuses immediately.

"Sort of. I'm at her flat, but she's gone to work. I didn't get to see her this morning before she left."

"Aw, poor baby," he pokes.

"Yeah, I heard your date was stellar last night," Arthur decides to avoid defense and switch to offense.

"She's too much for me, mate," he admits.

"Yeah, we kind of got that impression."

"What did she say?"

"She said that while you were really sweet and cute (blech), there was no spark."

"None. Apparently she only likes me when she's drunk. And who needs that?"

"Don't feel special, from what Gwen tells me she likes _everybody_ when she's drunk."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I guess she's felt up Gwen at least once in the past."

Merlin must have been eating breakfast as well, because he is suddenly choking on something. When he recovers, he says, "Well, that's a headache I don't need."

"Too true."

"We still doing lunch today, or are you going to toss me for her?"

"No, we had plans already. I do need to stop by the library for a minute to return her key. Could we do that when we're out?"

"Sure. I wouldn't mind checking out a book or two, honestly. Could do with a good read."

"Really? Do you even have a library card?"

"Have had one for years. Why, don't you?"

"I do now."

Merlin laughs. "Pick you up at twelve thirty, then."

"'Bye." Arthur hangs up. He drinks the milk from the bowl, then takes it to the sink and washes it. There are a couple other dishes sitting there, so he washes those as well, leaving them in the rack to dry. Then he takes a banana from a bunch he sees sitting on the counter and makes his way to the door and his car.

Arthur drives home, changes his clothes and sends Gwen a text: _Having lunch with Merlin today but will stop in._

The two men have burgers for lunch, and Merlin mentions Gwen's key.

"Are you sure she wants the key back?"

"What?"

"The key she left you. Are you sure she wants it back? I mean, she made sure you had a toothbrush there to use, and you stole hers, right? What if she wants you to have a key to her place? It would be really fast for _normal_ people, but it's becoming clear that the two of you are not normal."

"Hmm. The thought crossed my mind, but I'm not sure what to do. I don't want to assume that it's mine, because what if it's her only key and then I've taken it? She won't be able to get in. But will I look like an idiot if I try to give it back to her and she intended for me to have it?"

"Do you have an extra key to your place?"

"No, you have it."

"Oh, that's right." Arthur had given it to him in case of emergency. He also had Merlin's spare.

"Tell you what: why don't we stop at the hardware store before we go to the library and get one made. Then you're prepared if she wants you to keep it."

"Good idea." Arthur takes a drink and wipes his face.

They saunter in to the library an hour later, and thankfully Gwen is just walking up behind the desk. She had been out in the stacks, shelving. She smiles when she sees them, and walks around to the front of the desk to greet them. She first kisses Arthur, who wraps his arms around her for a hug as well, then she greets Merlin with a kiss on the cheek.

"How was your lunch?" she asks them.

"Good. We had a nice manly lunch of giant hamburgers and greasy chips," Arthur tells her.

"Lovely. I had a salad," she laughs.

"Gwen," Arthur starts, trying to choose his words carefully.

"That key was for you," she says. Merlin looks at her, bewildered.

"She does that all the time," Arthur tells him.

"I realized I hadn't made it clear in my note. It's yours."

Arthur pulls the key he just had made from his pocket and puts it in her hand. "Now we're even," he tells her with a grin.

She rolls her eyes, but smiles and says, "You didn't have to give me a key to your place just because I gave you one to mine."

"Yes, I did," he argues.

"Yeah, he kind of did," Merlin agrees. "He's funny that way."

Gwen laughs again, then says, "Where are you two off to now?"

"Actually, we're going to look for something good to read," Arthur tells her. "What can you recommend?"

"Ah. Come with me," she leads them back to the stacks.

Merlin chooses three books, Arthur decides to start with just one. Gwen checks them out, noting Merlin's worn card. "Hasn't been used in a while, I see," she mentions when she scans it.

"Yes, well, I never thought much about coming to a library once I was done with school."

"I hope that will change," she says, smiling as she hands him his card back.

Gwen hops up, leaning across the desk to kiss Arthur, much to everyone's surprise. Especially Vivian's. She has been watching from behind the desk since they returned with their books, glowering. She doesn't even try to charm Arthur's friend, figuring he was a hopeless case. _He's too skinny and has big ears, anyway. Bet he's gay, too,_ she thinks bitterly.

"Come over after work?" Arthur asks her.

"Absolutely," she tells him, and he puts his hand to her cheek for a second before they leave.


	15. Chapter 15

Gwen stops home briefly after work to pack a proper overnight bag this time. She's not sure what Arthur has in mind for the evening, but she decides to stay in her work clothes and pack something more comfortable. That way she's prepared whether they go out and stay in. _He'll just have to take me out in my work clothes if we go anywhere._ She tosses a few more items in her bag, and heads out the door.

She arrives at his apartment, pausing outside his door. _Do I knock? He gave me a key…_ Deciding to risk it, she turns the knob and opens the door without knocking. He is sitting on the sofa, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, watching footie highlights on TV. He turns and grins at her when she pokes her head in and switches the set off.

"Hi," she says, closing the door behind her.

"Guinevere," he stands and jogs over to her, kissing her hello. "What have you got there?"

"Just some things. Thought I'd be prepared this time."

"Smart girl," he smiles.

"So what do you have in mind?" she asks, noting that he doesn't seem to be dressed to go anywhere.

"Pizza?"

"Yum. I, um, brought some movies. I thought maybe we could do something…"

"…besides each other?" he finishes, laughing.

"Well, yes. I mean, we'll get to that, I'm sure, but…"

"I know what you mean, love. What did you bring?"

She reaches into her bag and produces _The King's Speech, _the remake of _Clash of the Titans, The Green Lantern,_ and _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part One._ He takes them and looks them over.

"These yours?"

"No, I borrowed them from the library."

"They have movies at the library?"

"Obviously."

He flips through them. He makes a face at _Harry Potter_ and puts it down. "Seen it," he says about _King's Speech_, leaving the two action films.

"I've heard this is pretty bad," he holds up _Green Lantern._

"Yeah, I had heard that, too, actually. But Ryan Reynolds is pretty hot, so it might be worth a look," she shrugs, grinning.

He puts it down deliberately. "_Clash of the Titans_ it is, then."

"You haven't seen it?"

"No."

"And here I thought it would have been required viewing for anyone with a Y chromosome."

"I guess I didn't get the memo," he says as he sets the box down on the television. "I'm actually surprised you want to see it."

"I like action flicks," she tells him, tucking the other boxes back into her bag.

"Sexy. What do you like on your pizza? I'll get it ordered."

"Not much, honestly. Cheese is always a safe bet. I do like Italian sausage. And I like Hawaiian pizza, you know, with pineapple?"

"Pepperoni?"

She sticks her tongue out and makes a gagging noise.

"Guess not. How do you feel about mushrooms?"

"Mushrooms are fine."

"Okay, I'll get a sausage and mushroom and a Hawaiian, then."

"For whom are you ordering all these pizzas? There are only two of us!"

"I can eat almost an entire one myself," he admits.

"Ah. Carry on, then."

As he dials, she takes her bag back to his room to change clothes. She rummages around in her bag and her hand brushes against a flat circular pill case. She freezes for a second, then exhales. _Tell him. You have to._

"Gwen?" Arthur shouts back to her, making her jump out of her thoughts.

"Yes?"

"Do you want green peppers and onions on your Hawaiian?"

"No! Only pineapple and ham. Or Canadian bacon or whatever they call it there."

"'Kay."

As she walks back out to the living room, Arthur tells her, "Forty-five minutes." Then he looks at her. She has changed into a pair of soft black Capri pants with white running stripes down the sides, the kind one might wear to work out. She also has on a grey t-shirt supporting her brother's rugby team and is in the process of twisting her hair into a braid over one shoulder, which she secures with a piece of elastic she had around her wrist.

"Well, then, make yourself at home," he grins at her. She looks so cozy and he just wants to cuddle up to her. She smiles back, but looks troubled.

"What's wrong?" he asks her.

"I have to tell you something." She sits on the sofa, and he joins her, concerned.

"What is it?"

_No sense in beating around the bush,_ she thinks, taking a breath. "I was pregnant once."

Arthur says nothing. He waits for her to continue.

"It was four years ago, when I was still at University. I had been dating a man called Lance for two years. And I accidentally got pregnant."

"Didn't you…?" he softly asks.

"That's the thing. We _did_ use protection. But, well, I got pregnant anyway."

"How?"

"It broke. I don't know if it was a faulty one or if he somehow messed it up when he put it on, but it broke."

"Um, wow."

"I was in denial for two weeks. Finally Morgana made me go to the University health clinic, and I had to face the truth. When I told Lance, he admitted that the condom had broken one time the previous month."

"He didn't tell you until _after_ he found out you were pregnant?" Arthur's face is starting to cloud.

"No, he didn't. We had a big fight, and I told him to leave; that I would decide what to do about the baby by myself." She talks softly.

Arthur reaches over and takes her hand.

"I thought about terminating it, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. So I was deciding between keeping it and putting it up for adoption. But my decision got made for me."

"How is that?"

"I lost it."

He takes her other hand. "I'm sorry, Guinevere."

"I called him after I lost it. I felt he deserved to know. He was crushed, actually. We tried to reconcile, but it didn't work. It was too much for him, and he left. Transferred to a school in the US, actually."

"Coward," Arthur is glowering.

"Don't be angry with him, Arthur. I'm not. Not anymore."

"Is he still in America?"

"As far as I know."

"Good."

"Arthur?"

"Yes?"

"It's actually a good thing it happened, if you think about it. If not for that mistake, I might have ended up married to Lance instead of here with you." She reaches out and strokes his cheek.

He smiles at this. "I know. I just don't like that you were so hurt."

"I'm better now," she assures him.

Then a thought occurs to him. "So, is this why you always put yourself in charge of the condoms?" he asks, chuckling softly.

"Well, yes, actually. I've become somewhat fanatical about birth control since then. I'm on the pill as well, so we're doubly protected. I decided that the next time I get pregnant it will be because I bloody well _want_ to."

"I don't blame you." He scoots closer and pulls her into his arms. She rests her head on his shoulder.

"Thank you, Arthur," she tells him.

"For what?"

"For listening. For being here. For not judging. I needed to tell you, for my own sake. I wanted you to know." She looks up at him and kisses him.

"Thank you for telling me. I want you to feel you can tell me anything."

"You, too."

"Gwen?"

"Hmm?"

"Has there been anyone since… Lance?" he says the name as if it tastes bad on his tongue.

"Not really. I've dated, sure, but nothing lasting longer than a month or so. What about you? Any sordid events in your romantic past?"

"Well, since we're having True Confessions…" he pauses, "I _almost_ got engaged once."

"Almost?"

"Yeah. Sophia. I found out just in time that she was only with me because of my father's money. After over two years of dating, I found this out."

"Bitch."

Arthur laughs at this. "Yes. It was three years ago."

"And where is she now?" Gwen asks.

"Um, Cornwall, I think. Don't know, don't care. She's probably found some rich ugly old Lord that she can suck the life out of like the vampire she is." He waves his hand dismissively.

"How did you find out? About her being a gold digger, I mean?"

"Merlin. He overheard her having a conversation with a girlfriend. He caught me while I was quite literally on my way to the jewelry store."

"Yikes."

"Indeed," he agrees.

"What a… a…" Gwen struggles for the right word.

"Whore?" Arthur recommends.

"That'll do," she agrees. Then she shakes her head in disgust. "How someone could do that to another person is beyond me." Now it is her turn to take his hands in hers.

"Me as well."

"Ah," Gwen says after a minute, "that's why the reluctance to talk about Daddy's work. Lucky for you I only love you for your body."

He laughs, but then continues, saying, "Yeah, I'm pretty careful about that detail now. Not that there are a lot of Pendragons about, but I've found that the less I say, the better."

She kisses him and reminds him, "My father is a successful business owner as well. So I don't give a fig about your father's money. I've got my own." She bites his ear, giggling.

"Well, that's certainly reassuring," he teases back, burying his head in her neck, nibbling and biting playfully, making her squeal with laughter as she falls back into the couch cushions. He grabs her and hugs her tightly.

"Oh!" Gwen suddenly yells, having a revelation and sitting up.

"What?" Arthur says, wondering what's on her mind now.

"She was the 'Sexyback' girl, wasn't she?"

Arthur flops forward, face into a couch pillow. The door buzzes.

"Thank God," he says and goes to the door. His face is red. Guinevere laughs at him.

Arthur pays the pizza man and Gwen brings plates and napkins from the kitchen. He puts in the movie and they eat in the living room, watching the movie.

"Mmm, I almost forgot," Arthur says, wiping his hands on a napkin and standing.

"Forgot what?"

"I got you something."

"You did?" She is intrigued.

Arthur comes back in with a lavender gift bag and sets it in her lap. Gwen wipes her own hands and digs in. She pulls out a stuffed bear, dressed as a fireman. She laughs and hugs it.

"I thought I needed representation as well," he admits, a little sheepishly.

"I love it, thank you," she says, leaning over and kissing him, her hand on the side of his neck. She sets the bear next to her on the sofa, folds the tissue and tucks it back into the bag, which she also folds and sets on the table.

"You would not believe how many shops we had to go to before I found one that was dressed appropriately," he tells her, picking up his plate.

"'We?' You dragged Merlin with you?"

"After we left the library today. He was getting irritated after the third store, but once I found it, I had him stop at a petrol station and I filled his tank for him. He couldn't complain any more after that."

"He's a good sport, Merlin. This movie is pretty bad," Gwen says, taking a drink. He made sure he had some Diet Coke for her.

"Yeah, but I bet it's still better than _Green Lantern."_


	16. Chapter 16

Arthur had set his alarm clock for Guinevere, since she has to work again Thursday morning. He has to be back to the firehouse at noon as well, and he wants to make sure he sees her before she leaves this time. He is really getting accustomed to waking up with her in his arms, just as she as getting accustomed to waking up in them. They snuggle under the covers for a bit, whispering, touching, teasing, before Gwen reluctantly gets out of bed and goes to the bathroom and the shower.

He decides to leave her alone this time so she isn't late for work. He lounges in bed a little longer, thinking about her. He's so far gone now that he can't even remember life before her. _It was only last week, man,_ he reminds himself, then rolls over and pushes his face into the pillow on which she slept.

They had a wonderful night. The movie wasn't great, so they spent most of their time making fun of it, cracking each other up. They cuddled together on the sofa after they'd eaten, and managed to finish the movie without ripping each other's clothes off.

_You've got no bra on._ He had run his hand down her back at one point.

_Do you have any idea how uncomfortable those things can be?_

_Um, no._

From that point on all he wanted was for the movie to just _end_ already.

Arthur decides to pop in at the library for a few minutes before he went to work. He walks through the door, meeting Dr. Gaius on the way in, and relieves him of his heavy bags once again, carrying them to the desk for him.

"Thank you again, Arthur," Gaius tells him.

"Any time, sir," he says, then turns to see Gwen talking to someone. It's an older man that she seems to know well. He walks a step closer, and the man laughs. It's Gwen's laugh. _That must be her father,_ he thinks, and stops.

Gwen spots Arthur over her father's shoulder and waves him over.

"Dad, I want you to meet someone," she says as Arthur approaches. The man turns. He looks exactly the same as he did in the picture, apart from the grey hair he has now.

"You must be Arthur," he says, extending his hand. "Guinevere has told me about you."

"Arthur, my father, Tom Thomas," Gwen introduces him.

"An honor to meet you, sir," Arthur says, taking his hand and grasping it firmly.

"Guinevere tells me you're a fireman?" he inquires.

"Yes, on my way to work right now, in fact. I just wanted to stop in and say hello to your lovely daughter before I'm trapped there until Saturday," he smiles. He finds he likes her father and really hopes he likes him as well.

"Long hours," he comments.

"Yes, but it's a good job. It makes me happy."

"That's important. It's good to do what you like," he says, smiling at Gwen. "Speaking of which," he continues, "I had better get back myself. Thanks for the books, Guinevere." He leans over and kisses her on the cheek and she hugs him.

"Very nice to meet you, Arthur."

"You, too, sir."

"Call me Tom, please." He claps Arthur on the shoulder as he walks past and out the door.

Arthur looks at Gwen. "You didn't plan that, did you?" he smirks at her, raising an eyebrow.

"No, honest!" she laughs. "I'm glad you came in just now, though."

He exhales heavily. "Got _that_ out of the way, then."

She shoves his shoulder, and he pulls her into his arms for a brief kiss. She lets him, as there is no one in the lobby at the moment.

"Okay, I showed you mine, now you have to show me yours," she tells him.

"What?"

"When do I get to meet your father?"

"Ha. I have to get a hold of him first. Probably Christmas."

"Seriously?"

"Perhaps not. I'll work on it, I promise. He's a pain to nail down if it's not bank-related."

"You do that. Oh, my dad stopped in to give me these," she pulls out of his embrace and waves some tickets in his face.

"Rugby?" he grabs them, reading them. "These are fantastic seats!"

"Well, _yeah,_ brother is on the team," she says, rolling her eyes at him. "They're for Saturday afternoon."

He kisses her, and she says, "Did I say I was taking you?"

"No. But you are."

"Shut up." She laughs and takes the tickets out of his hand.

"I have to go. See you Saturday." He gives her one more kiss and says, "I love you," against her lips.

"I love you, too. Be safe."

Gwen wakes up Friday morning and sees a light on her phone flashing slowly on and off. _I must not have heard it,_ she thinks, picking it up. One new text message. 2:17 a.m. She pokes it and her heart stops. _Bigg fire barn ootsid town. Gothurt. Am oK. Luve o._

She stares at it. And then stares at it some more, willing it to change. Willing the spelling errors to fix themselves, willing the words to rearrange so they don't say what they say.

It's seven thirty. She normally doesn't call Arthur when he's on duty, but she dials his number anyway. It rings for a bit, and just when she thinks it's going to go to voice mail, a voice answers.

"Gwen?"

"_Merlin?_"

"Hi."

"Don't 'hi' me, Merlin, where's Arthur?"

"He's sleeping. I've got him on pain meds and he's out cold."

"_What. Happened."_

Merlin hesitates. Arthur told him that he didn't want to worry her. He doesn't know what to say. _Stick to the facts,_ he decides.

"There was a fire in an abandoned barn outside of town. A beam fell and hit Arthur's shoulder, dislocating it. He's also got quite an impressive bruise. He'll be fine."

"He dislocated his shoulder?"

"Yes, but I managed to pop it back in. It's quite painful, but it has to be done. That's why he's drugged up and sleeping it off now."

She says nothing. She holds her bear.

"Gwen?"

"I'm here."

Merlin has an idea that should get him out of any trouble with Arthur. He's not sure about Gwen, though. "Why don't you stop in at the firehouse this evening?"

"Is that allowed? I wouldn't want to get him in trouble," she says, but she really wants to see him. _Work is going to be a lot of fun today,_ she thinks ruefully.

"It's fine. Leon's wife pops in regularly. Besides, Arthur's the chief. He won't yell at himself."

"Oh." She hadn't realized that he was in _charge_ of his shift. Merlin placing her in the same category as a _wife_ did not escape her attention, either. "What if you're on a call?"

"Well, Arthur won't be going."

"I suppose not."

The day passes in a fog, but it's a completely different kind of fog than earlier in the week. This fog is unpleasant and worrisome. She decides to leave early and go home. She bakes chocolate chip cookies to bring to the firehouse with her. Baking makes her feel better and keeps her occupied.

She attempts to eat a bite of dinner, but finds she has no stomach. She picks up the scrap of paper with the firehouse's address and heads out the door, box of cookies in her arms.

Gwen parks on the street and walks to the building. She hears noises coming from behind the building. Sounds like a men engaging in sport. She changes her path and walks around the side, following the noise.

As she walks up, she finds her guess was correct. There is a small impromptu game going on, and as she approaches, she sees a tall man, slender but muscular with brown wavy hair, trip over his own feet and tumble to the ground. The men laugh and he is given a hand up from a huge man, even taller and quite muscular, but with a sweet boyish face and close-cropped hair. Merlin is standing to the side, with another, a rakishly handsome man with longish dark brown hair. Merlin notices Gwen first. He smiles at her and nods in Arthur's direction. He is sitting atop a nearby picnic table watching the action.

Gwen looks and stops walking. Arthur has his left arm in a sling and there is a large bandage on the side of his neck, low, where the neck meets the shoulder. _What is that for?_ she thinks. Worry is battling with anger now. _What else did they not tell me?_

"Arthur," Merlin calls, and points.

Arthur looks, his face brightening at first. She is wearing a pale green t-shirt, black shorts and black flip-flops that have silver beads on them. As always, his heart quickens at how she manages to look cute and sexy at the same time. Then he sees the expression on her face. _I'm in trouble,_ he thinks as he stands and walks to meet her. The game is forgotten as there is much more interesting entertainment about to ensue.

"Guinevere," he tries, smiling at her.

"Arthur."

"I'm in trouble, aren't I?" he says quietly to her once he reaches her. She keeps her box of cookies between them like a barrier.

"What else happened to you?" she demands.

"I dislocated my shoulder when a beam fell on it—"

"Yes, I know that, Merlin told me," she cuts him off.

"Oh."

"I'm talking about _this_," she points to the bandage on his neck.

"Oh. Um, it's a burn."

"Go on."

"The beam that fell on me was on fire. Some of the bits got under my collar and burned me."

"And…"

"And…" he's not sure what she's looking for now. "And that's all. Dislocated shoulder, big bruise, burned neck."

Gwen looks down.

"I didn't want to worry you," he says.

"You worry me more by not telling me everything," she looks up at him, eyes pained. He reaches out and touches her arm gently.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think about it that way."

"I'd rather know everything, no matter how gruesome, then be left to wonder if there is anything _else_ that might be wrong. I came here expecting to see you a little worse for wear, not looking like a hospital patient. You don't need to protect me, Arthur. Not from things like this."

"Understood," he says. "Hopefully there won't be a next time." He tries giving her a smile.

"Right. And don't worry, Merlin's in for it as well." She smiles back at him.

"Well, that's something, at least. I love you, Guinevere. I said last night I wanted you to feel you can tell me anything, and apparently I don't listen to my own words."

She kisses him, a soft peck. "I love you, too, Arthur. I don't need you to report your every move to me. But I told you I was a worrier."

"I remember. If the tables were turned, I would expect the same, frankly," he admits.

"Good."

The men are watching with interest. They can't hear what they're saying, but they watch nevertheless.

"Whoa, she's cute. She's the one who's got him all tied up in knots, then?" Wayne asks Merlin.

"Yes. She's really great, actually," he answers.

"He's in trouble, though. Look at her," Leon, the only married man there, observes. He's familiar with that look. "She's little, but she means business."

"Nah, look at _him._" Paul joins the conversation. "Never seen him contrite like that before," he chuckles. "What do you think she's got in that box?"

"Hopefully something to eat," Wayne muses, hopeful.

Arthur takes Gwen's hand and walks her over to meet the men. Merlin steps forward first, intending to greet her in a friendly way, but she punches him on the arm.

"Ow! What was that for?" he moans.

"For listening to _him_ when he told you not to 'worry' me."

Merlin glowers at Arthur, who says, "She figured it out, mate, I didn't squeal on you."

"Sorry," he says, rubbing his arm. She is surprisingly strong.

"Gwen, this is Leon."

Leon offers his hand. She takes it, saying, "Nice to meet you." His hand is warm and his long slender fingers nearly wrap completely around her small hand.

"Nice to meet you as well, Gwen," he replies. He smiles, eyes twinkling.

"This is Paul," Arthur indicates the giant man next in line, who also offers a hand. Gwen clasps his broad hand, her fingers barely reaching around. His grip is firm but surprisingly gentle; the handshake of a man in complete control of his considerable strength.

"Paul," Gwen says and smiles up at him. He smiles back warmly but says nothing.

"And Wayne," he indicates the handsome dark-haired devil, who extends a hand. As Gwen gives hers, he lifts her knuckles to his lips and kisses them.

"My lady," he greets her, smiling. Gwen responds with a look that is highly amused and slightly puzzled. The men laugh as Wayne pouts.

"Well, that's not a response he's accustomed to receiving," says Leon, laughing.

"Forgive me, sir, but I seem to be immune to your charms," Gwen teases.

Wayne finally smiles, saying, "Well, a man can dream, can't he?"

"No, he bloody well can't," Arthur declares, and Gwen joins the men (except Arthur and Wayne) in their laughter.

"I've brought a snack for you all," Gwen says, handing the box to Merlin, who opens it immediately on the picnic table. They are suddenly great boys, oohing and aahing over the cookies, tucking in immediately.

"These are amazing. Where did you get them?" Leon asks after one bite.

"My kitchen," Gwen tells him.

"Really? I should very much like the recipe, if you can share it."

"Of course."

"Leon's the best cook at the station," Merlin tells her.

"Thank you, Merlin," he raises his cookie as if offering a toast.

"All right, lads, let's take these inside to the others. Gwen, would you like a tour?"

"I would love one."


	17. Chapter 17

They walk into the station house and Merlin announces "Cookies!" and sets the box on a table. There are a half-dozen other men inside, engaging in various leisure activities. Arthur introduces Gwen more casually to these others, basically pointing and naming names. He tells them that Gwen is his girlfriend. Gwen's heart does a little flip at hearing him announce her as his girlfriend. _Get it together woman, you're not a silly teenager._

Merlin walks over, looking at his watch and saying, "Arthur, we need to change your bandages before you commence your tour."

"Very well. Wait here?" he asks Gwen.

"No."

"Of course not." He takes her hand and the three of them walk to a little room that serves as an infirmary.

"Didn't you go to the hospital?" Gwen asks Arthur.

"No need, really. Merlin fixed me up just fine. He's also a Registered Nurse."

"Really?"

"Yep," Merlin pipes up. "And I do windows."

"You do not. I've been to your flat; you're a total slob," Arthur, now seated on a bench, shoves him lightly with his foot as he rummages in a drawer.

Gwen helps Arthur take his sling and t-shirt off. Removing his shirt seems fairly painful for him.

"You should wear a button-down shirt. Then you wouldn't have to pull it over your head," she tells him.

"I didn't pack any."

"None you could borrow?"

"Merlin's would be too tight and Paul's would be a tent."

She rolls her eyes, but sits next to him as Merlin comes over to remove the bandages. Arthur sits stoically, but Gwen can see the muscle twitching in his jaw. _I hope he's not being unnecessarily brave just for me,_ she thinks, but says nothing. Instead she holds his free hand, and turns to look at the burned flesh. It is pink, red in places, with a few blisters, white.

"He'll be fine, Gwen," Merlin says, aware of her watching him but keeping his eyes on his task, spreading some sort of gel on the wound. Gwen pretends not to notice that Arthur is holding her hand quite tightly.

"That _is_ an impressive bruise," she notes, trying to lighten the mood. "A friend of mine at school had a bruise like that on her hip after she took a fall. We had to check it out each day to see what colors it was turning."

Merlin finally looks at her. "You're weird," he tells her. Arthur guffaws and relaxes his hand a little.

He puts fresh bandages on and between the three of them they manage to get Arthur's shirt back on. Merlin reseats Arthur's arm in the sling and hands him 2 pills and a paper cup filled with water. Once Arthur has taken the pills, Merlin announces, "All set. You may go."

Arthur looks at Gwen. "We've been dismissed, apparently." He hops off the bench and extends his right hand for her, which she takes.

He shows her around the firehouse. She sits in the truck. She tries on Arthur's helmet, which he finds inexplicably alluring. He turns on the lights and siren for her, making sure she covers her ears first. He shows her some of their training areas, and she crawls through a tunnel they use to practice getting through tight places with their gear on.

"Paul can get through here?" she asks, incredulous. She maneuvers through easily, but she is quite a bit smaller than all of them.

"Amazingly, yes. It's quite a sight, though. And his first attempt was priceless. We almost had to dismantle the tunnel." Arthur laughs.

"I can imagine."

They return to the common area to find the box of cookies has been emptied.

"You didn't get one," Gwen says, disappointed. Just then Paul walks up with a cookie he has on a napkin and hands it to Arthur.

"Saved one for you, Chief," he says.

"Thanks, Paul," Arthur tells him. Paul smiles again at Gwen and returns to a table where Leon is waiting, shuffling a deck of cards.

"I'd better go," Gwen says reluctantly.

"I'll walk you out."

"'Bye," several of the men call to her as they walk to the door, "Thanks for the cookies."

Gwen waves, saying, "You're welcome. Nice to meet you all."

They walk out the door. It is almost dark, but the night is still warm. Arthur walks her to her car.

"I'm sorry," she tells him when they get there.

"For what?"

"For freaking out on you about this. I feel a little foolish. I don't want to be a needy… girlfriend."

He leans down and kisses her, saying, "I liked being able to call you that tonight. So who's feeling foolish now?" She can tell, even in the dark, that he is blushing slightly.

"Okay, I'll admit that I liked hearing you announce it to them. So you don't think I'm ridiculous?"

"No. I'll make a deal with you." He straightens up, trying to look official. "I promise I will give you every lurid detail of any injury I incur if you promise not to become a basket case about me having a dangerous job."

"Deal," she says, holding out her hand. They shake on it. Then he pulls her to him, carefully, to his right side, and leans down for a kiss. A real kiss. He wraps his arm around her, pressing her to his side as he delves his tongue between her soft lips, teasing hers forward as they wind around each other inside their mouths, warm and passionate.

Gwen drops back down from her toes; her hands on his stomach and back. His skin feels hot under her cool hands. "I'll pick you up tomorrow for the match," she tells him.

"You're driving?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"You are injured. Besides, I have rock star parking privileges about which you can only dream." She leans up and kisses him one last time, then gets in her car. Arthur watches her drive away before walking back inside.


	18. Chapter 18

Arthur has a lot on his mind this morning. He is restless, because he can't do anything. Merlin says he can't take the sling off until Sunday at the earliest. So at least one more day. Cheering at the rugby match is going to be difficult, indeed, not to mention certain… leisure activities he plans on engaging in later with Guinevere.

By ten a.m. he is stir crazy. He stalks out to the common room, finds Leon playing catch with Wayne across the room. They are tossing a plush version of an American football back and forth.

"Hey, do you blokes mind if I knock off a couple hours early? I've got some errands I want to make before the match this afternoon," he asks.

"Go ahead," Leon says, catching the ball.

"You're not any use around here right now, anyway," Wayne teases. He is abruptly pegged in the side of the head by the plush football, exactly where Leon has aimed it with laser-like precision. "What? You're only shoving him out the door because that means you get to be in charge. For two whole hours," he says to Leon, tossing the ball back, aiming it just out of reach of his long arms so he has to get up off the sofa to retrieve it.

Merlin looks up. "What errands?"

Arthur just raises an eyebrow at him and walks out the door.

_Surely not,_ Merlin thinks.

Arthur walks out of the bright sunshine and into the building. He strides through the lobby, garnering a few surreptitious glances from the employees, who not only notice the sling and the bandage, but the small white paper bag he has perched on the slung arm and the coffee cup he has clutched in his left hand. No one comments about the fact that he is carrying in food. The bank is very quiet, since it is Saturday, and his trainers make very little noise on the marble floor as he passes.

He stops outside a lift in the back and presses the button. He rides it to the top. When the doors open, he steps out onto the carpeted floor beyond.

"Good morning, Father," he says, walking in.

"Arthur." Uther Pendragon is seated behind a large mahogany desk, staring at a computer screen. He finally turns to look at his son and says, "What on earth has happened to you now?

Arthur sets the bag and the coffee down in front of his father and tells him, "Just dislocated and a little burnt."

"Again?"

Arthur laughs. "Merlin says I'll be fine."

"I'm sure you will."

"I brought you some breakfast."

"Arthur, it's half ten already. Don't you think that's a little late for breakfast?"

"Have you eaten yet?" Arthur raises an eyebrow at his father.

"So what did you bring me?" Uther answers the question by not answering it.

"Mocha with hazelnut."

"Ahh," Uther smiles. There are a grand total of three people who know what Uther's secret favorite hot drink is. He peeks in the bag, "And a scone?"

"Orange cranberry."

Uther pulls it from the bag and addresses Arthur. "To what do I owe this visit? Surely you didn't stop by just to feed me a late breakfast."

"Three things."

The first is easy. He tells him about Guinevere, showing him a picture he took of her on his phone. He looks with interest, declaring that she is lovely.

The second is slightly more difficult. But after much debate and consulting of calendars, Uther realizes that he would be available for brunch the very next day if Gwen is also available. Arthur's fairly certain she will be.

The third item on Arthur's agenda is nearly impossible.

Half an hour later, Arthur emerges victorious from the bank, the item he has sought tucked safely in his pocket. He drives back to his flat, and as he walks to the door, he calls Gwen.

"Arthur! You're early!" she exclaims.

"I knocked off early. No point in staying when you can't do anything," he explains.

"Do you want to meet for lunch?" she asks.

"Yes, but actually, I was wondering if you would help me with something first."

"Of course."

"Will you help me wash my hair? I can't do it with one hand and it's driving me bonkers."

Gwen laughs and says, "I'll be over soon."

"Guinevere?"

"Hmm?"

"Bring a change of clothes with you. I'm taking you out after the match."

"Okay." She smiles and hangs up the phone.

Her phone rings as she drives. It's Morgana, calling from the salon, just to be nosy.

"I'm actually on my way over to his flat. He needs help washing his hair," she chuckles, "Though I'm sure we'll end up making a big mess in the process."

Morgana has an idea. "Bring him here."

"That's brilliant. I'll do that."

She pulls to the curb outside Arthur's apartment and she calls him. "Put your shoes on and come out to the car. I'm taking you to Morgana's salon. We'll wash your hair there."

"Um…"

"It will prevent a wet mess at your place. Come on."

"Okay." He sighs and slides into his flip flops.

The salon is actually not far from Arthur's flat. Heads turn as they walk in, as a gorgeous man with his arm in a sling and a bandage on his neck strolling into a hair salon is not an every day occurrence.

Morgana greets them immediately, kissing Arthur's cheek and declaring, "You look a mess!"

"Well, thank you, Morgana," he answers.

"Does it hurt?"

"It's not too bad. Mostly it's just uncomfortable and inconvenient. And restrictive."

Morgana smiles knowingly at the implications in Arthur's last statement, and takes him by his right arm, leading him to a chair at a sink. She has piled rolled-up towels on the edge of the sink to make it more comfortable for him. He sits and looks at Gwen, eyes questioning.

"Yes, I'll do it," she says, knowing he specifically wanted [i]her[/i] to be the one to do his hair. Morgana shows Gwen how to work the strange faucet and then walks away to go answer everyone's gossipy questions about the handsome stranger.

Arthur thoroughly enjoys having Gwen wash his hair. He closes his eyes, enjoying the warm water and the feel of her hands on his scalp. A few times she leans over and he is treated to her breasts pressing the side of his face.

"You're doing that on purpose," he accuses her, smiling, eyes still closed.

"Maybe," she smiles, bending over and kissing him.

"Mmm." He wasn't expecting the kiss. She straightens back up and rinses him.

"All done," she says, helping him sit up and rubbing his head with a towel.

"I'm going to have to get one of these sinks someday," he says, peeking out at her.

There is still time to stop for lunch before the match. They stop at a curry take away and get a few dishes to share back at Arthur's.

They leave for the match after lunch. The heat wave has dissipated a bit, and it is comfortably warm out. Gwen has on a tank top with the team name on it. Arthur has wisely put on a shirt that buttons up the front. He looks at her and says, "I guess I need to get some team wear."

"Oh! Thanks for reminding me," she says. They are stopped at a traffic light, so she reaches into the back seat and brings forth a cap, which she places on his head.

"Thank you. I am no longer underdressed."

Gwen pulls the car through a side entrance, a guard waving her through when she shows him a card she pulled from her wallet.

"Nice," Arthur looks around. She parks the car and they walk a very short distance to the pitch and their seats in the second row, right behind the players' bench.

They sit, and Gwen looks at Arthur. She frowns.

"What?" he asks.

She stands up, walks in front of him and pulls him up. She pushes him into the seat she just vacated so she is now sitting on his left side.

"If anyone's going to bump into that shoulder, I want it to be me," she tells him. He smiles at her concern.

"Oi! Gwen!" a voice shouts from below.

"Elliot!" she calls back, and waves at him. He looks around, then comes bounding over.

He favors his father strongly, looking almost exactly like the man in the picture apart from the lighter skin tone. He is not very tall, but powerfully built. Gwen leans forward over the still-vacant seats in front of them to say hello to her brother.

"Hey," he says, "where's Dad?"

"Couldn't make it. Elliot, this is Arthur." She reaches her hand back to Arthur and he stands.

"Hi," Elliot says, "did my sister do that to you?"

Arthur laughs, and says, "Work-related injury. Sorry if that disappoints you, mate. Nice to meet you."

"You, too."

"Arthur's a firefighter," Gwen says, "he was injured Thursday night on a call."

"Just dislocated, nothing big," Arthur explains.

"Oh yeah, I've had that," Elliot says dismissively. "No big deal."

Arthur laughs and looks at Gwen, saying, "See?" She angles her head to the side and gives him a _look._

Elliot watches this exchange with interest. His sister is positively glowing in this man's presence. He wonders how long they've been dating and why he's just now learning of him.

"Elliot, you're being summoned," Gwen tells him, noticing a coach below looking up at him.

"Gotta run. See you after, okay?"

"As long as you don't get killed," she says.

It is a good game, and their team wins. There is much cheering and carrying on, and afterwards Gwen leads Arthur down to the field. Ever the sports fan, he chats easily with Elliot and the rest of the team, discussing the game and picking apart details of particularly good plays. Elliot takes this opportunity to grill his sister.

"So, Arthur…"

"Yes, Elliot, he's my boyfriend."

"Since when have you had a boyfriend?"

"Since when is that any of your business?"

"Since I've been your brother."

"Dad likes him. He gave up his ticket to him."

"So he wasn't busy, then?"

"No. Do you have some sort of problem with Arthur?"

"Don't get defensive, he seems like a great guy," he says, glancing over at Arthur, who is laughing at something one of Elliot's teammates has said. "Are you two… serious?"

"You could say that."

"What would _you_ say?"

"Yes, we are."

"He makes you happy." Not a question. He knows his sister.

"Very."

"Well, then, I'm happy." He kisses her cheek and they walk over to where Arthur is.

"What time is dinner?" she asks him.

"We have an hour and a half," he looks at his watch. "Should we go?"

"Probably should do, yes. Gentlemen," she says to her brother's team. Several wave and say, "'Bye Gwen."

"Great meeting you, Elliot," Arthur offers his hand, and Elliot takes it.

"You, too, Arthur. Take good care of my sister," he says, giving a brotherly warning.

"I intend to," Arthur smiles and slaps his back as they walk past.

"Where are we going?" Gwen asks Arthur, back at his flat. She has changed clothes into a rich red dress that accentuates her curves in all the right ways, low cut but not too much so, skirt flaring out to end just above her knees. She is fixing her hair in the bathroom while he changes clothes.

"Luigi's," he says.

"Mmm, Italian."

"Glad you approve," he walks in as she is applying lip gloss. "Wow."

"Thank you," she smiles at him. Her hair is in loose curls falling about her shoulders, tousled but still somehow orderly. She looks gorgeous and Arthur is tempted to hang the reservations and carry her off to bed. _Well, perhaps not carry,_ he thinks.

"You look pretty edible yourself there, mister," she tells him. He is wearing a light blue shirt that accentuates the blue in his eyes and dark grey trousers. Gwen changed the bandage on his neck earlier, replacing it with a smaller one (with Merlin's consent) that is almost unnoticeable beneath his collar.

"Thank you," he leans forward and burrows into her hair so he can kiss the side of her neck. She smiles.

"Shouldn't we get going?" she asks as he continues to nibble, his right arm now around her waist.

"No," he says into her neck.

"_Yes,_" she pushes him gently away, laughing.


	19. Chapter 19

Over dinner, Arthur asks about brunch tomorrow.

"Tomorrow? So, not Christmas, then?" she laughs.

"No, amazingly he had nothing planned."

She thinks. "Should be fine."

"Excellent."

"I'll probably still be at your flat, anyway," she laughs.

They return to Arthur's after dinner. The food was very good, and Arthur wisely ordered spaghetti, something fairly easy to eat with one hand. Gwen had chicken Parmesan, one of her favorites.

She sits on the couch while Arthur wanders down the hall for a few minutes. She leans back and closes her eyes. _It has been a long day. A long couple of days. I really feel at home here. He keeps making me leave things here, so that's probably why. I would redecorate a bit, definitely. Put a few homey touches in, some throw pillows on this sofa, for starters…_ She doesn't hear Arthur return to the living room. He stands there watching her lounge on his couch, looking like a pampered princess.

Arthur kneels down in front of her, sliding his right hand along her thigh, making her jump. She opens her eyes and smiles at him. He puts his head down in her lap, hand still absentmindedly caressing her leg, sliding back around her rump. She strokes his hair, gazing down at him. _His hair is so soft,_ she thinks. _That must be why I can keep my hands out of it._

"Marry me, Guinevere," he says, lifting his head and looking up at her.

"What?" She's not sure she heard him correctly.

He takes her hand and kisses it, then holds it.

"I love you, Guinevere," he starts again. "I now know that my life without you in it would be no life at all. My heart belongs to you, totally and completely, and I want you to know this. I want to always be with you. I want…" he pauses, "Guinevere, will you be my wife? I know it's insane, but—"

"Yes, Arthur," she croaks, her voice hoarse with emotion. She leans forward to kiss him, pulling him up to the sofa next to her, where she gets him to sit and delicately climbs into his lap, minding his injured shoulder, kissing him the entire time.

"You… didn't… let me… finish…" he manages between kisses.

She looks at him. "I didn't?" she says sweetly, then leans in and plants a passionate kiss on him, running her hand down the right side of his chest, squeezing his upper thigh. "Go on, then."

He stares at her. He has a dazed look in his eyes. "I don't remember what else I was going to say," he says, lost in her dark brown eyes. He kisses her once more, then does remember one thing. He pulls away gently.

"Wait a moment," he leans over and reaches into his pocket. He takes her hand and slides the ring on the third finger of her left hand.

"It fits," she says, surprised, and looks down at it. It is a beautiful ring, a large princess cut diamond flanked by two smaller rectangular emerald-cut diamonds and a smaller circular diamond on each side, extending down the band. "It's beautiful," she says. _Holy hell that is a HUGE diamond,_ she thinks.

"It was my mother's," he tells her.

"It _was?_ How did you get it?" There are tears in her eyes. _It was his MOTHER'S. I can only imagine what it must mean to him._ His earlier words drift back to her as well: _on my way to the jewelry store._ He never intended to give _this_ ring to that _other_ woman.

He smiles at her and wipes the tears from her cheeks. "It wasn't easy, believe me. I had to do a _lot_ of convincing. First I had to convince my father that I knew he had it, and that I knew where it was." He kisses her. "_Then_ I had to convince him that it wasn't inappropriate or disrespectful for me to give it to you." He kisses her again. "_Finally_ I had to convince him that I wasn't taking mother's ring to cheap out on buying one for you myself." He kisses her again. "I would gladly buy you a room full of jewels, but none of them would have the meaning for me that _this_ ring has." He pokes it with his finger. Then he kisses her again. "I'm happy it fits. We don't have to have it sized, then. It probably could do with a clean, though, sorry."

Gwen laughs at this last statement, though she is still weeping tears of joy. "I love you so much, Arthur." She leans over and kisses him, still in his lap. It is a little awkward with the sling, but she takes care to stay on his good side. She can tell that not having use of both his hands is just _killing_ him. _I can really take advantage of this,_ she thinks, and leans in closer, sweeping her tongue through the interiors of his mouth one more time, then breaking gently away.

She climbs from his lap and walks to the window, where she pulls the blinds closed.

"What are you up to?" he turns his head, watching her. _That dress is unbelievable._

Gwen says nothing and walks back over to where he is seated and stands in front of him, just out of reach. She reaches back and pulls the zipper down on the back of her dress.

"Oh," he says, eyes darkening with desire. He moves to stand.

"Sit," she commands.

"Okay." He leans back on the sofa again, smiling and curious. _So what's this game, minx?_

The dress slides down off her shoulders, falling at her feet. She steps out and gently kicks the dress to one side with her bare toes. His eyes take in the sight of her in a black lace demi-bra, that exposes a good portion of the tops of her breasts, and a matching black thong. Arthur groans and shifts a little uncomfortably in his seat. _Wow._

Gwen steps towards him and leans forward, lifting his chin to kiss him. He reaches his hand up to touch her breast and she moans into his mouth. Then she pulls away again, back out of reach.

"You are killing me, woman," he says in a thick voice. Gwen smiles and reaches back and unclasps her bra, removing it and setting it on the floor atop her dress. He leans his head back on the couch cushions and groans again.

She reaches down to her thong, and Arthur stops her, his head snapping forward, saying, "Leave it on a bit yet." Gwen shrugs and walks back to him again. She kneels in front of him, her movements slow and deliberate. She undoes his belt and pulls it free from his trousers. He tries to help, and she stops his hand, gently saying, "No."

She carefully unbuttons his shirt, opening it but leaving it on, as his arm is still in the sling.

"We could take the sling off," he tries.

"No."

"Okay."

Her tongue burns against his skin as she kisses his chest. She undoes his trousers. Her lips rove around and her left hand slides inside the shirt on his uninjured side. Her lips find his nipple and she slides her tongue across it and bites it lightly, the way he has often done to her. He exhales and slides his right hand down her back, fingers finding the thong and he toys with it briefly, fingers trailing to her backside. She works her way back up to his face, pressing her breasts against his chest, the contact making both of them tingly.

She kisses his lips again, biting the lower one, and brings her hands back down to his trousers. He lifts his bum so that she can slide them and his underwear off all at once. She climbs into his lap, straddling him. He leans his head forward and takes one of her breasts in his mouth, his right hand holding it while his tongue strokes and teases the nipple into a hardened nub. Gwen plunges her hands into his hair, fingers grasping his scalp, making similar movements to the ones she made while washing his hair this noon. _I'll let him think he's in charge for the moment,_ she thinks, gently guiding his head where she wants it to go all the while.

His head moves to the other breast while his hand slides down her stomach, rotating at the wrist so he can slip it inside her panties. She gasps and digs her nails into his head just a bit, taking care not to hurt him. He strokes her with his hand, occasionally slipping a finger inside her, making her moan. She arches her back slightly, and he angles his hand down, nudging the thong down with the back of his hand. She smirks and releases him, leaving his lap again. He wilts slightly, disappointed to be robbed of her warmth again.

Arthur's disappointment doesn't last long. Gwen walks away from him, turning her back to him. _My God,_ he thinks as he admires her from behind. _She seriously has the best-looking ass I has ever seen._

Gwen hooks her thumbs in the waistband of the garment, sliding them down halfway before turning around to face him. She slides them slowly down. Arthur actually feels pain watching her seduce him like this. He has never been this turned on, this hard before. _Football. Tennis. Anything but that body. Don't lose it before she comes back._ He squeezes his eyes shut for a second.

She starts to walk back to him, but hesitates and sneaks a look back to his room.

"Wallet," Arthur tells her in a rough voice, recovering some sense, "in my trouser pocket."

"What? Oh," she realizes what he's telling her. She grabs the trousers and extracts the wallet, opening it and rooting around for a second until she finds the packet.

She sets it on the side table and climbs back into his lap. She takes him in her hand, gentle but firm, running her palm along his length. He leans his head back and groans. She leans over and kisses the right side of his neck, running the tip of her tongue along the tendon that runs down the side, ending at his collarbone.

She feels him start to lift his left arm. _I don't care, I need to touch her. _She gently places her hand on his forearm, stopping him.

"I hate this thing," he laments.

She presses herself to him, gently, so that his left hand can feel the soft skin on her stomach. He turns his hand slightly so he can feel her. "Thank you," he says, smiling and pressing his lips to her neck.

She shifts downward to rub herself against his erection. It catches him by surprise and he bites her neck gently to show his appreciation. She giggles and does it again, reaching to the table as she does so.

Gwen rolls the condom onto Arthur, then eases down onto him herself. He sighs and she strokes his face. He scoots downward slightly, allowing her better access. She rocks herself up and down, leaning into him as she does so, gently, seductively. He slides his hand around to grip her backside, guiding her movements in the only way he can.

He reaches forward with his head and kisses her breasts as she moves atop him. She holds his head with her right hand, her left resting on his uninjured shoulder, stroking his warm skin.

"Guinevere," he breathes into her breasts. Even in their current state, her name on his lips makes her insides turn into hot liquid and she loses her rhythm for a second. _How does he do that?_ Arthur chuckles against her skin at this, and she regains herself, leaning over to nibble his ear for a second. She teases the sensitive skin around his ear with her tongue a bit, then sits back up as she feels a welcome sensation starting to flood through her.

Arthur's head is thrown back, the muscles in his neck straining, and he bursts forth with a roar as he finds his release. She continues riding him, which now feels like sweet torment to him in this sensitized state, until she gasps loudly and grips his shoulder, throwing her head back and then forward against his forehead.

He kisses her. "I love you," she tells him, still breathing heavily. He snakes his right hand around her waist, squeezing her to him. She leans into him, shifting position so she is no longer straddling him. Her hips ache a bit.

"My Guinevere," he whispers in her ear. She kisses the side of his neck.


	20. Chapter 20

A few minutes later she leaves his lap, helps him clean up, and they wander back to his bedroom. It is relatively early yet, and Gwen puts on Arthur's t-shirt that she has stolen and Arthur puts on a pair of shorts. She helps him take his shirt off.

"Can I _please_ leave this sling off?" He is practically begging. "I don't have to wear it to sleep tonight, honest."

"Okay. But be careful. I've been put in charge of you for the evening, you know. If I see you doing anything… suspicious, I'm slapping you right back into that sling."

"You've been put in charge? By whom?"

"Merlin. He sent me a text."

"Where did he get your number?" He is blustering now, feeling conspired against by his best friend and his love. _Fiancée,_ he reminds himself.

"I imagine he got it from your phone after I talked to him Friday morning." She shrugs.

"What did he send?'

"You're such a pain." She digs her phone out of her bag and drags her finger across the screen. She finds the text and flashes it at Arthur. _Make sure he behaves himself. –Merlin_

"Surely, that could mean anything," he tries. She looks at him, saying nothing. "Perhaps not, then," he gives up.

She looks at her phone. "Arthur," she says, "can we invite my father to brunch tomorrow? That way we can tell both our fathers the news at the same time."

"Sure, that's a good idea. My father might have an inkling already, you know."

"Probably." She smiles, then rings her father.

"Is he still up?" Arthur asks quietly.

"Arthur, it's not that late. Oh! Hi, Dad," she says into the phone.

"Nothing's wrong. Sorry it's a bit late, but I thought you'd still be up. Oh, good. Just wondering if you have any plans tomorrow morning. Hmm?" she looks at Arthur and points to the back of her wrist. _Eleven,_ he mouths to her. "Eleven. Arthur and I are having brunch with his father tomorrow and we were wondering if you'd come. You will? Oh, good!" She smiles at Arthur. "What? Oh, I don't exactly know. Here, I'll give you to Arthur." His eyes open wide as she hands him the phone. "Well, I don't know where your father lives," she says to him. He takes the phone.

"Hello, Mr. Thomas. Sorry, Tom," he has obviously been corrected. Gwen smiles and walks to the loo while Arthur gives her father directions to his father's house.

"All sorted?" she asks Arthur, returning to his bedroom.

"Yep. He'll be there." He pauses, looking at her standing there in his shirt, ring on her finger, hair pulled back. He smiles at her, realizing he'll get to see her like this – cozy and rumpled and adorable – regularly, for the rest of his life. "Hey, do you think we could take this bandage off? It probably could do with some air." He points to his neck. "It itches."

"Hmm. Maybe we should call Merlin. Oh – and then we can tell him as well," she says.

Arthur picks up his phone and dials Merlin's number. He finally answers, and Arthur greets him with, "You weren't _sleeping,_ were you? Oh. Well, wake up and talk to me for a minute. _Sorry._" He looks at Gwen and rolls his eyes, and she giggles. "I want to know if Gwen can take this bandages off my neck. Yes, _that's_ why I woke you. Oh. Hang on." He pokes his phone, turning on the speaker.

"Hi, Merlin, sorry to wake you," Gwen says.

"It's all right, Gwen," Merlin tells her.

"Oh, so for _her_ it's all right…" Arthur complains.

"Shut it, you. Gwen, how does his shoulder look?"

"One second." She flips on the bright overhead light. "It's mostly purple, but the edges are starting to turn yellow. I let him take the sling off."

"Hmm." Merlin doesn't sound pleased about the sling. "Arthur lift your arm up, out in front of you."

Arthur lifts his right arm up easily, grinning at Gwen.

"Your _left_ arm, Cabbage Head," Merlin's knowing voice comes out of the phone. Arthur scowls and does as he's told. "How does it feel?"

"Fine," Arthur says.

"Gwen?" Merlin asks for confirmation.

"I would say it still aches a bit," she studies him.

"Hey! What is this?" Arthur objects.

"She's my lie detector," Merlin laughs. "How high up can he raise it?"

"He looks like he's saluting Hitler with the wrong hand."

Arthur bursts out laughing at this, as does Merlin, who says, "Good. Now lift your _left_ arm out to the side, as far as you can go again."

"Aaahhhh…" Arthur reluctantly groans a bit at this action.

"Still sore," Gwen translates. Arthur scowls at her. She blows him a kiss.

"How far?" Merlin asks.

"About three o'clock," Gwen tells him.

"Pretty good. I expected that way would be a little worse."

"Can I keep the sling off?" Arthur asks.

"Yes. Gwen, take the bandage off and tell me what you see."

Gwen carefully peels the bandage from Arthur's neck. All that remains of his burn are what used to be blisters "The blisters are dry. They've scabbed over," she says.

"You can leave the bandage off. Do _not_ scratch them, Arthur. I know they itch. If you scratch them, they'll heal slower and scar. Keep putting that gel on," he instructs.

"All right—" Arthur begins, but Merlin cuts him off.

"And I want you to use the arm, but not too much. Don't go work out, don't reach over your head too much for anything; try not to sleep on that side. If it starts to ache too much, take some aspirin and go easy on it. And ice it if you need to. Oh, and also—"

"I'm sorry, Gwen, it appears I already have a wife," it is Arthur's turn to cut Merlin off. He winks at her.

"Do I have to give the ring back, then?" she grins at Arthur.

"Oh, ha ha, very funny. Wait, what?" Merlin suddenly realizes what has just transpired.

Gwen and Arthur laugh. "Merlin, Guinevere has agreed to marry me," Arthur tells him.

"You do realize that he is a complete nutter and a total degenerate, right?" Merlin asks Gwen.

"Yes. And it takes one to know one, my dear," she teases him back.

"Hey, I'm not a nutter! Seriously, though, I'm very happy for you, honestly. And Arthur, I _knew_ that's what you were up to this morning! 'Errand,' indeed. I didn't think you'd be proposing _tonight,_ though."

"I know," Arthur tells him. "Merlin, you remember when I told you I knew about a ring my father had? My mother's ring?"

"You gave her _that_ ring? You _actually_ got him to give it to you?"

"Yep."

"Well done, you!"

"We wanted you to be the first to know, Merlin, since you were the one that dragged Arthur over to come talk to me," Gwen tells him.

"Oh, you two would have found each other at some point, I'm sure of that," Merlin says.

"You can trust him. He's a wizard, you know," Arthur grins at Gwen.

"Oh, of course," Gwen says, "but thank you anyway, Merlin."

"You are most welcome. Both of you," he says.

"And Merlin, you'll be my best man, obviously," Arthur announces. He doesn't ask, he commands.

"Well, _yeah,_" Merlin says, as if Arthur had said "it's nighttime." Then he yawns.

"Good night, Merlin," Gwen says.

"Good night, you two," Merlin answers.

"'Night. See you Monday," Arthur says, then hangs up the phone. They are sitting on Arthur's bed, facing each other, phone on the bed between them. He looks across at her and smiles, his eyes exuding a heat that she feels in her belly. He leans forward to kiss her, putting his right hand down on the bed for support. His lips are warm, possessing hers, his tongue sweeping across her lips. She doesn't let him in yet, and gently pulls away.

"It's too bright in here now,' he says, opening his eyes halfway.

"One more thing before I turn the lights back off," she says. She hops off the bed, grabs her phone, and takes a photo of her left hand and sends it to Morgana. She gives him an impish smirk. "Wait for it…"

Ten seconds later her phone rings. She answers, "Hello?" as sweetly and innocently as she can.

"_BLOODY HELL THAT IS A HUGE DIAMOND!"_ Morgana shouts into the phone, causing Gwen to pull it away from her ear quickly. Arthur is able to hear the outburst, and he laughs.


	21. Chapter 21

Gwen finishes her call with Morgana and sets her phone to silent. She sets it on Arthur's dresser and flips the overhead light off. Arthur had made himself cozy under the covers of his bed while she was talking, sitting propped up against the headboard on pillows. He beckons to her with one finger, despite the fact that she is already walking towards him.

"Remember your shoulder," she warns as she climbs in next to him, on his right side.

"Somehow I don't think you'll let me forget," he smiles as he reaches over to kiss her. He brings his arms around her waist, grateful to be able to hold her properly – almost properly – again. He does notice that while he is trying to pull her across him she is careful not to rest her weight on him. _As if she weighs anything at all,_ he thinks, pulling her closer.

His hand slips beneath the sheets, down to her thigh. He slides it up and around to cup her backside and she groans into him. His hand roves higher, pulling at the t-shirt she has on. He can't reach high enough to pull it off of her, so she pulls away for a second and whips it off over her head.

She is pressed back into the pillows as he leans over her, touching, kissing. His tongue is doing sinful things to the interior of her mouth while his left hand seems to be making up for lost time, roaming around her stomach, caressing her breasts, her thighs, dropping between her legs to stroke her. Gwen's eyes flutter closed and she exhales as he swirls his tongue around her earlobe, taking it between his teeth for a moment.

Gwen reaches down to remove Arthur's shorts. _No shorts._ She pulls away and looks at him, raising an eyebrow at him. He grins. "What?" She just shakes her head with a smirk, and grabs him in her hand, a bit suddenly, making him gasp at the unexpected sensation.

"You little…" he growls seductively as he drops his head to a breast, hand redoubling its efforts below the covers.

"Ah…" Gwen sighs, trying to concentrate on keeping her hand moving on him in her own distracted state. Their hands seem to be moving in sync with each other. She reaches her other hand over to the nightstand, opening the drawer and reaching in. She finds the box and pokes her fingers inside it, finding it empty. She pulls away from him to look in the drawer. There's not much in there: fingernail clippers, a packet of tissues, a rubber band, a pencil, and a book of matches. Nothing else.

"Arthur," she says. He leans over and looks.

"I must be out," he says casually and leans back to kiss her.

"_Arthur,_" she says, more emphatically and tries to move out from under him.

"Gwen—"

"I'll go check my bag. I may still have some in there," she starts to rise.

His right hand shoots out, quick as lightning, and grabs hers. "Guine_vere._"

She stops and looks at him.

"Come here," he says gently. She sits. "It's all right," he continues.

"I suppose we don't _have_ to…" she starts.

"I didn't mean that." He pauses, choosing his words carefully. "I meant we don't need one."

Her brow furrows and she frowns, confused and upset. _I can't believe he would be so insensitive,_ she thinks, but says nothing. Her mouth opens and closes a few times, as if she is trying to say something, but no words come out.

"Guinevere," he begins again, voice gentle. "You're on the pill, right?"

"Yes," she whispers.

"You take it regularly."

"Religiously."

"Same time every day."

"Yes, of course. How did you—"

"I did some research yesterday. Having an incapacitated arm in a firehouse gives a man a lot of free time."

"Oh."

"The pill is 99.9% effective when taken properly, as you do. I don't think we have anything to worry about, love."

"It's not 100%,"

"Neither are condoms. And they are much more likely to fail. You _know_ that. And they're only 98% when used properly."

"That's why I'm on the pill, too."

"Gwen, you do realize that you're just helping prove my point. It's like… opening an umbrella inside the house because it's raining."

"What?"

"If the umbrella breaks, you are still dry because _you're inside the house._"

"Arthur, that's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

"Yes. I know."

"I… I don't know. I don't think you can understand."

"Perhaps not. All I know is that you're still afraid. Still hurt."

"I'm not. I'm fine."

"Guinevere, look at yourself."

Gwen looks down. She is hugging her knees to her chest, sitting like a ball wrapped in a sheet. She has completely separated herself from Arthur. _I'm shielding myself, hiding,_ she realizes, and reluctantly forces herself to uncurl. Arthur takes her hand.

"I'm not trying to make you do anything you don't want to do. I would never do that, I promise. I'm just trying to… help you get better. Help you heal." He kisses her knuckles.

"I thought I was better." She looks down. She is now sitting cross-legged next to him.

"Come over here please," he asks quietly, dropping her hand so he can hold his arm out for her to snuggle into him. "I want to tell you something. Something I've never told anyone."

She sighs and lies down beside him.

"I don't know that I can fully understand, this is true," he begins, "But I think I can come close."

"How's that?" she asks his shoulder.

"When I was eighteen, I was driving on a motorway in a rainstorm. A big one. One of those rains so heavy that the ground and the sewers can't keep up. I wasn't driving fast; I was well under the speed limit, actually. Still, I hydroplaned and lost control of the car. I skidded across three lanes of traffic and hit a wall. I had spun 180 degrees."

"Were you hurt?" she looks up at him.

"That's the amazing thing. I wasn't. Sure, I was sore for a couple days after, but I didn't hit any other cars, no other cars hit me, and if that median wall hadn't been there I would have wound up in the oncoming lanes. The car looked like I tried to fold it in half sideways."

"You were lucky."

"Yes. Still, it took me a good solid year before I was willing to drive on any major motorway again, rain or shine. Especially _that_ one. But, with time and necessity, I was gradually able to get my wheels back under me."

Gwen says nothing, waiting for him to continue. She puts her hand on his chest.

"Then last year, Merlin and I went to Manchester for a training exchange. Merlin drove. On our way there, we drove through a rainstorm. A big one, just like the one when I was eighteen. We hydroplaned once, just a little, and suddenly all the fear, all the panic, came flooding back."

"But you weren't hurt," Gwen says, puzzled.

"That's just it. I wasn't hurt. But I _could_ have been. It's the 'what-ifs' that get you every time. What if it happens again? What if I hit another car this time? What if I'm on a bridge when it happens and the car goes over the side? What if…"

"I get it."

"Not only that, but I wasn't driving this time. Don't get me wrong, I trust Merlin's driving. The man drives an ambulance; he's required by law to be a good driver. So I was completely freaking out and had no control over anything."

"What did you do? Did you have Merlin pull over?"

"He wouldn't."

"Really?" This surprises Gwen. _Merlin is such a sweet person, why would he put Arthur through that?_

"He looked at me and said, 'Arthur, the only way you're going to get through this is if we _get through this._' And he kept driving. I kept a death grip on the armrests, my leg, his leg, anything that I could. I even closed my eyes for a bit."

"What happened?"

"When we drove out through the other end of the storm, Merlin looked over at me, shoved me on the shoulder and called me a girl. He never spoke of it again. Ever."

"Wow."

"My point is, that even if _you_ think you're over something, you can't know for sure until you are actually faced with it again. And sometimes you need another person, someone you can trust, to pull you through it."

Arthur can feel Gwen's tears falling on his chest. He reaches up and wipes them from her cheeks with his thumb.

"Do you trust me, Guinevere?" he asks, voice little more than a whisper.

"Yes," she replies, barely audible. She tilts her head up and kisses his jaw. He leans down to kiss her lips. "I love you, Arthur," she whispers.

"I know." He kisses her again. "I love you, too. So much. And I promise you: I will not run away from you. Ever."

**A/N Disclaimer: as a parent and responsible adult I feel I must add that condoms should be used as they are the best guard against STDs. Arthur and Gwen are clean and in a committed relationship and disease is not a concern for them. I don't mean to be a buzzkill after their beautiful moment, but I had to clarify my position.**


	22. Chapter 22

They lay together in Arthur's bed, neither speaking. Arthur caresses her back, gently stroking. He holds her hand against his chest. _The next move is up to her,_ he thinks.

Gwen is no longer crying. In fact, she is so still that Arthur wonders if she has fallen asleep. He angles his head down to look at her. She looks up at him, still awake, and he kisses her forehead. Reaching his hand over, he pulls open the drawer and withdraws the packet of tissues and removes one. Arthur lifts her face and gently wipes her tears. She smiles, a little embarrassed, and takes another tissue to dry the tears that have wet his chest. He chuckles warmly at her actions, squeezing her slightly.

She sits up, still holding the sheet around her, and blows her nose into a third tissue. She stares at the wall for a moment, then looks down at Arthur, who is watching her. "I must look dreadful," she says.

Her eyes are red and slightly swollen, her nose is a little red as well, and her hair is mussed. "Never," Arthur says with a smile. "You are always beautiful to me." His eyes burn with an irresistible combination of complete love and unbridled desire.

Gwen picks up his right hand and places his palm to her chest, over her heart. He can feel her pulse beneath his hand, noting that its tempo is increasing.

"Feel that?" she whispers after a minute. "It beats for you alone. I barely noticed it there before a week ago. Now it is forefront in my mind. When I am with you, it feels full; almost too big to fit. When we are apart, it is as if you've taken it with you." She blinks her eyes slowly at him, almost seductively.

Arthur feels his hand being guided by hers again, down lower, resting on her breast, shoving the sheet down as their hands glide across her skin. She holds his gaze, and he draws his breath in sharply. She leans over and kisses him, softly, lingering on his lips. This time it is her turn to sweep her tongue across his lips to ask for entrance.

He sighs against her, smiling as he opens his mouth for her, pulling her down to lay over him. She leans into him and trails her hand down his chest, tracing circles and curlicues as she goes. He jumps under her touch and she giggles against his lips.

"I didn't realize you were so ticklish," she says.

"Don't go getting any ideas, woman," he says, snatching her hand in his and rubbing her knuckles with his thumb. She brings their hands to her lips and kisses his hand. She sets it back down on his chest and resumes her original route; dragging her fingers down his stomach, lower to find him already aroused and ready for her. She takes his length in her hand, holding it softly, rubbing it with her palm. His eyes roll back and close as he groans.

Arthur is determined to be tender with her, as gentle as he can manage. He lets her lead, gives her the control. _Again,_ he thinks ruefully, smiling as her lips and tongue suck and stroke at his neck. She is now fully over him, pressing herself to him, sliding herself in between his legs in a curious role reversal of position. Arthur is intrigued.

Gwen shifts her position slightly upwards. She takes his face between her hands and kisses him again, first sweetly, then with increasing passion as he feels her squeeze her thighs together, trapping his erection between them. She slides lower, stroking him with the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. Arthur's eyes fly open in surprise. She grins against his lips, taking his lower lip between her teeth, pulling slightly, teasing.

Arthur leans his head forward to take a breast in his mouth, but quickly drops it back, the motion straining his injured shoulder. Gwen smirks at him and lifts herself to his lips. He eagerly latches on to her, tenderness temporarily forgotten as she has driven him to complete distraction.

"Arthur…" she gasps, almost grabbing his sore shoulder, forgetting herself for a second.

She slides back down, moving her legs to the outside of his. His eyes search hers, asking permission, looking for any sign of reluctance or fear. Gwen looks steadily at him and he sees nothing but love and desire there. "Yes," she simply says. It is all he needs to hear.

She reaches down and positions him outside her opening, and he slowly lifts his hips, entering her with as much control as he can muster. Gwen sighs, pushing against him.

"Oh my God..." Arthur moans, relishing the feel of her, no barriers between them. He feels his control slipping.

Gwen is done with his tenderness. She meets his thrusts with her own, urging him on faster, deeper. She finds the motion she likes, hitting just the right spot, and grinds against him, breathing heavily. She throws her head back. She leans forward and bites the side of his neck, licking his taut skin as she does so.

She cries out, her voice raspy, as her climax hits her like a freight train. Her hands grab his head, pulling his hair as she does so.

That does it for him. He flips her over suddenly, resting all his weight on his right arm. She takes his left hand in her own, holding it to her chest, so that he remembers not to lean on it. He plows into her a half-dozen more times, mindless with need, then is hit by his own freight train before he collapses over her, snuggling his face into her neck, her hair.

"Oof," Gwen says, laughing. He rolls them to the side, releasing himself from her. Arthur lifts her chin to his face and kisses her.

"Are you all right, love?" he asks.

"Yes, Arthur. Thank you," she says, kissing him again. He wraps his arms around her, holding her to him.

"So you're okay?"

"_Yes,_" she says emphatically.

"'Cause that was amazing, you know. Being able to… feel you like that."

She smiles. "I noticed."

"I thought I was going to lose it immediately," he admits.

"Really?"

"Well, _yeah._"

Gwen giggles a little at this.

"I don't think you realize what kind of power you have over me, Guinevere."

She leans up and kisses him, telling him softly, "I'll try to only use it for good."

"Pity," he says, grinning devilishly.

"Arthur!"

He laughs, squeezing her tightly.

Several minutes later, Gwen kisses Arthur again, gently, and exits the bed. She walks down the hall to the bathroom. There is an unfamiliar gooeyness between her legs that she would like to clean up, and decides that Arthur doesn't need to see _that._

She returns, finding he's turned on the small television he has in his room. He watches her walk back in.

"Well it's certainly messier that way," she says with a smirk. Arthur laughs suddenly at this, pulling back the covers so she can climb back into bed with him.

She cuddles herself to him, nestling into his chest. _Perfect fit,_ she thinks. "Arthur?" she asks.

"Hmm?" he looks down at her.

"I need to stop at my flat tomorrow before we go to your father's house."

"I think that can be arranged. Did you forget something?"

"Well, I don't have anything with me that would be appropriate to wear to brunch. You just sprung it on me tonight, you know."

"Ah, yes. Sorry about that," he chuckles.

"Unless you want me to wear that red dress again…"

"Not for my father, you're not!"


	23. Chapter 23

Arthur wakes before Gwen. He decides to get up and shower, so that they can have plenty of time to get to her apartment before his father's. He is able to reach up enough to wash his own hair, which makes him happy. When he returns to his room, he finds Guinevere awake, which also makes him happy.

"Good morning, love," he says, leaning to kiss her. She offers a cheek, which he kisses, then scowls.

"I haven't brushed my teeth yet," she tells him.

"I don't care," he tells her.

"Well, I do." She gets up and strolls to the bathroom to remedy that situation.

Arthur drives them to Gwen's, leaving her car at his flat.

_You may not have to work until noon tomorrow, but I need to leave earlier,_ she had said when he suggested taking her car back to her place an leaving it there. _Unless you don't want me to stay._

A raised eyebrow is all the response he gave as he picked up his keys and pulled her to his car.

Gwen opens the door and immediately she hears, "Gwen? Is that you?" from down the hall.

"No, it's a pack of murderers," she calls back.

"Oh, good, because I'm not dressed yet."

"I'm not alone, Morgana," Gwen warns.

"Noted," she calls back.

Arthur sits on the sofa, and moments later Morgana comes sprinting out of her room, declaring, "Okay, let me see that thing in person!"

Gwen offers her left hand for inspection, and Morgana appropriately oohs and aahs. "That is _so_ beautiful. You have good taste," she says to Arthur.

"Actually, it was my mother's," he tells her.

Morgana blinks. Gwen obviously has told her about Arthur's mother. She eventually manages an "Oh!" not knowing what to say. She looks at Gwen.

"I know," Gwen agrees softly.

Arthur chuckles and says, "Getting it from my father was the difficult part."

"I can well imagine," Morgana says.

Gwen pries her hand from Morgana's grasp and declares, "I am going to take a shower. You two behave yourselves." She takes her bag back to her room.

Morgana looks at Arthur. "You're looking better. Can I get you something to eat?"

"No, we're actually having brunch at my father's in a bit. Gwen's father is attending as well."

"Good luck with that," she says, heading to the kitchen. "You can turn on the telly if you like," she calls.

"Thanks," he answers, and does so.

He hears the shower turn on, and looks back down the hall. "I know what you're thinking," Morgana teases him as she re-enters the living room, carrying a cup of tea and some toast with marmalade.

Arthur blushes and surfs through the channels. He finds something he can live with, then pulls out his phone.

_Gwen's dad coming to brunch also_ he texts his father.

A minute later, _Just her dad?_

_Yes. Her mum is dead._

_Interesting_ comes the reply after another minute. Arthur puts his phone away as Morgana finishes her toast.

"Arthur," Morgana says after several minutes. He looks up and finds her face uncharacteristically hard.

"Yes?" He thinks he knows what's coming.

"You hurt her, _ever,_ and you'll need to run a lot farther away than Lance did."

He was right. "I know. I promise you that you will never have to worry about that."

"I will hold you to that."

"I know." He holds her gaze for a minute, trying to prove to her that he is in earnest. She looks away first, taking a drink of her tea. _Good,_ he thinks, feeling as though he has passed the first test. He is starting to worry about brunch.

Gwen is ready to go. She has repacked her bag with clothes for work the next day, and is wearing a white sleeveless blouse with a flowing lavender skirt. Arthur smiles when he sees her, standing. _Wonder what surprise she has under that skirt for me today?_ he cannot help but think.

She exhales, looks at Morgana, and says, "Wish us luck."

"Good luck. You might need it," Morgana says.

"Nervous, too, huh?" Arthur says to her as they walk to his car.

"A bit, yes."

Uther Pendragon is sitting in the sunroom at the back of his massive house, drinking his favorite coffee and reading the newspaper. He glances at his watch. Ten-thirteen. He knows Arthur's habit for arriving ridiculously early, and expects that they'll arrive within the next fifteen minutes. Uther has a sneaking suspicion that his son wasn't planning on hanging on to that ring for very long, and has been thinking on and off all morning about how he feels about his son proposing to a woman that he has only just met.

_I want mother's ring,_ Arthur had said.

_What ring?_

_Her diamond engagement ring. I know you have it._ Arthur's eyes move pointedly towards the Monet on his father's wall, indicating that he knows the ring lies in the safe behind the painting.

_What makes you so certain?_ Uther asked, but deep down he knows that his son is going to walk out of this building with the ring.

_Because I know you didn't destroy everything of her. I know you keep a picture of her yet, though you burned the rest. I know you have one of her handkerchiefs in your nightstand drawer. I know you talk to her sometimes, when you think no one is listening. I know…_

_Enough!_ He pinches the bridge of his nose between two fingers.

_Father,_ he said softly, _I am not intending to cause you pain. I want to marry Guinevere, and I want her to have mother's ring. That's how much she means to me. If mum could give her consent, I think she would. We both know I could go buy a ring. But she is worth more than that to me. I have so little of my mother; please let me have this one thing of her to give to the woman I wish to spend the rest of my life with._

Uther stares out the window. _Very well,_ he sighs. Arthur stands and goes to the safe, which he opens easily.

_You know the combination?_ Uther asks, surprised.

_Of course I do, father. It's my birthdate. You're not that difficult to figure out, you know._

"Hello," Arthur's voice calling from the front of the house pulls Uther out of his memory. Ten twenty-six.

Uther stands and walks to the front of the house. He sees them standing there in the foyer. Guinevere is even lovelier in person than she was in the picture on Arthur's phone.

"Arthur, you're early, as usual," he smiles. "You must be Gwen," he says, extending a hand to her.

"Hello, it's very nice to meet you, sir," she smiles up at him. He is a handsome man still, despite the grey hair and the face that doesn't look like it smiles enough. Arthur's looks definitely favor his mother, though he and his father share the same strong jawline.

"Welcome to Camelot Manor," he says.

"You have a lovely home," she tells him.

"Thank you. It's been in the family for generations."

Just then Uther's phone rings. Arthur rolls his eyes as his father looks at it.

"Father…" he begins.

"I'm sorry, I must take this. Won't be long, I promise. Why don't you give her a tour?"

"Yes, I'd like that," Gwen says to Arthur, putting her hand on his arm as Uther walks away, speaking French into the phone.

Arthur leads Gwen through the first floor, showing her the house. "This will be mine one day, you know. Ours. That is, if you want it."

That hadn't occurred to her. "Oh," she says, then recovers. "Well, I don't know, this neighborhood doesn't look that safe…" she jokes.

He laughs, leading her into the kitchen. She looks, eyes wide. "Sold," she says, and he laughs again.

"Good morning, Leah," Arthur says to his father's housekeeper, the only staff he has in the house. Leah is an older woman, handsome and sturdy, and she is fussing over their brunch, getting everything ready.

"Arthur!" she turns around, "How are you, darling? Your father told me you'd been hurt," she studies him.

He gives her a quick hug, telling her, "I'm much better, thanks. Leah, this is Gwen," he introduces them.

"Nice to meet you, Gwen," she says. Gwen extends her hand, and Leah takes it.

"You, too," Gwen says, finding Leah's fondness for Arthur sweet. _She obviously has worked for Uther a long time,_ she thinks.

Leah notices the ring on Gwen's finger and she gasps before she can help herself, and looks at Arthur. He smiles and puts a finger to his lips. She understands, and will say nothing.

"Brunch smells wonderful," Gwen tells her, "I'm looking forward to it."

"Thank you, my dear."

"All right, on with the tour," Arthur says, taking Gwen's hand. They pass Uther's study and still hear him on the phone. Arthur takes her upstairs.

"This is my room," he opens a door. She goes in and looks around. _Narrow bed with a red coverlet. Fencing trophies. Fire engine toy in one corner. Football in another. Poster from "Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom." Model car._ Gwen picks up the car.

"Aston Martin DB5. James Bond's car," she says, inspecting it. "Great car." She puts it down. "I prefer the V12 Vanquish, myself. I liked that they used it in some of the newer movies. I'd love to just drive one once."

Arthur stares at her.

"What?" she says.

"That was so hot," he declares, and she laughs.

They leave his room, and he opens a door to a tiny room, little more than a broom cupboard or a crawlspace. "This was my favorite hiding place when I was a boy. I used to bring my toys in here and play. Sometimes I'd haul pillows and blankets in and build a fort." He leads her inside and closes the door behind them.

_I know that look,_ Gwen thinks as he leans toward her, pulling her to him.

"Ar—" he stops her words with his kiss, leaning into her. He plunges his tongue into her mouth, hungry, passionate. She returns his desire, her own tongue desperate and longing.

Arthur pulls his lips away from hers, trailing kisses down her neck. "I want you, Guinevere," he whispers in her ear.

Her skin tingles at his words. "But, your father…" she attempts weakly, her willpower not that strong to begin with.

"…is downstairs talking to French people. And we have time," he says between kisses, working his way down her collarbone, hands undoing buttons on her blouse.

"Hell with it," she surrenders, unfastening his trousers and sliding her hand inside.

He opens enough of her blouse to give him access to a good portion of her breasts and plants kisses there as his hands slide down, lifting her skirt and sliding his hands up her thighs.

Guinevere sighs, leaning her head back. She shoves his trousers and underwear down enough to free him and takes him in her hand as he reaches up and pulls her panties down, immediately returning his hand to the warmth he has exposed.

He backs her up to a small ledge on one side of the room, and she jumps up to sit on it, knowing that he'd try to pick her up if she didn't. He presses against her, kissing her hotly, and thrusts into her, causing a soft cry to exit her lips.

Arthur closes his eyes as he drives into her; all need and want, the complete opposite of the gentle loving they shared last night. _The more I have of her, the more I want her, _he finds himself thinking, amazed that he can even form a coherent thought right now. He continues his rhythm, right arm wrapped around her waist, left hand at her breast, kneading, stroking. He feels her legs around his waist, spurring him on deeper, harder.

She feels herself coming close; hears noises begin to escape her lips of their own accord. Letting go of his neck, Gwen puts her own hand over her mouth as she climaxes, mindful of the noise. Arthur nudges her hand away with his nose and swallows any sound either of them might make with a kiss as she feels him spill himself into her, reaching his own finish.

They hold each other a minute more, panting; foreheads together. Gwen starts to giggle. "Who's the naughty one now?" she asks him.

"Still you," he teases back.

"Oh!" she shoves him, smiling. He lets her down, backing up so that she can put herself back together.

After a stop in the bathroom, they go back downstairs. Uther emerges from his study as they descend the staircase, and just then the bell rings. Guinevere's father has arrived.


	24. Chapter 24

Arthur opens the door, "Good morning, Tom," he greets Gwen's father.

"Arthur, good to see you again." The two shake hands and Arthur ushers him inside.

"Father, this is—" Arthur begins, but Uther cuts him off. The two businessmen's reputations precede them.

"Tom Thomas, GE Die Casting," Uther finishes, extending his hand.

"And you must be the mighty Uther Pendragon of Camelot Bank," Tom chuckles, clasping Uther's hand.

"Pleased to finally meet you, Tom. I'm surprised our paths have not crossed before, honestly."

"Yes, well, I like to keep a low profile," Tom jokes, then turns to his daughter. "Guinevere, you look lovely," he bends and kisses her.

"Thanks, Dad," she smiles up at him.

"I believe Leah has everything ready for us in the dining room. Shall we?" Uther leads the way.

X

"This is a lovely home, Uther," Tom says as they sit.

"Thank you. I've grown quite fond of it."

"Been in the family awhile, then?"

"Yes, my great-grandfather built it."

"Had it built," Arthur corrects him, rolling his eyes, eliciting a small snort of a giggle from Gwen.

"Where do you call home, Tom?" Uther ignores his son.

"Well, the house my wife and I bought was just too empty once the children moved out. The business was doing well, so I sold the house and treated myself to a penthouse in the city, overlooking the Thames."

"One of the converted warehouse buildings?" Uther asks.

"Yes, they've been magnificently done."

"Very nice," Uther says, but thinks, _Ah. New money, then._

Arthur can see his father's thought as if it was written on the man's forehead and gives him an annoyed look. _You can be such a snob sometimes,_ he thinks, picking up his glass of milk for a drink, to hide his disgust.

"So Tom, with whom do you have your accounts?" Uther asks as they tuck into the spread laid out before them.

"Father, this is a social brunch, not a business meeting. We didn't invite him here so you can try to drum up some more business. Tom can keep his money in his mattress if he so desires."

Tom laughs at this, and Uther asks, "So exactly why _did_ you gather us all here, then?" He had noticed Gwen's ring immediately, and is tired of waiting for his son to get to the point.

"Well, actually, Guinevere and I want to tell you both that we intend to marry," Arthur tells them, reaching for Gwen's hand on the table.

Arthur and Gwen were not expecting joyful cries of congratulations. They had no illusions about this; they knew their courtship was ridiculously short.

They were met with complete silence.

Finally, Uther speaks. "Arthur, when you came for that ring Friday morning, I knew what your intentions were. I just didn't expect you to follow through with them so… quickly."

"I know."

Uther takes a drink of his coffee, and sets it on the table. "Though I don't know why I'm surprised. You've always done exactly as you pleased, regardless of what I felt was best."

"Father, this is not the time for that discussion. Again."

They sit silently for another minute. The minutes feel like hours. Gwen has been watching her father. His face is a mask.

"Dad?" she asks quietly.

"Excuse me." Tom stands and walks from the room. Gwen looks at Arthur, who gives her hand a squeeze, and she gets up and follows after her father.

"Dad, wait!" She finds him in the parlor, looking out of a window. _At least he hasn't left,_ she thinks as she walks over to him.

"Dad..." she begins.

"Guinevere, don't you think this is a bit hasty? More than a bit. A lot."

"Daddy, I love him. I knew it ten minutes after I met him. I know it's crazy. We both know it is. I can't explain it myself. At least not in a way that will make you understand. I want to be with him. I want to be his wife. I have never been more certain about anything in my entire life."

He says nothing. Gwen puts her hand on his shoulder, saying softly, "He's not Lance, Dad."

He turns to look at her. There are tears in her eyes. He hates that he's upset her. "You're not getting married _next_ week, are you?"

"Of course not." She attempts a different tactic. "Dad?"

"Yes?"

"Didn't you and mum have quite a short courtship as well?"

"Not _this_ short. But yes," he admits.

"And wasn't Granddad against your marriage?"

"Yes. But that was mostly because of me being black. It had very little to do with the fact that I proposed to your mother after only a month."

"And now the two of you are great friends."

He sighs. "Your point?"

"My point is that I will not allow you to be a hypocrite!" she punches him lightly on the shoulder. "Please give us your blessing," she asks, taking his hands in her own.

He sighs and looks down at her.

"I thought you liked Arthur," she says.

"I do. But I like you more. I wasn't prepared for this. You're my only daughter; I don't want to give you up that easily."

"Gwen, may I talk to your father?" Arthur's voice comes from the doorway.

"I suppose so," she steps back and Arthur approaches.

He kisses her on the cheek and tells her, "It's okay. Go back to the dining room."

She furrows her brow, puzzled as to why she's being dismissed. She also isn't relishing the thought of being alone with Uther.

"Just want to have a little man-to-man with your father. I don't think either of us intends to throw any punches," he tells her softly. Then he adds, "My father will behave, I promise."

She sighs. "All right." Gwen walks back to the dining room, stopping briefly in the hallway to collect herself. Leah happens upon her there and stops, putting her hand on Gwen's shoulder.

"Everything will be fine. Uther is all bark and no bite, honest," Leah whispers to Gwen.

Gwen giggles despite herself. "Thank you, Leah." Gwen takes a deep breath and re-enters the dining room.

X

"Tom, I know she's your only daughter. I know how much she must mean to you. I can't imagine how anyone who knows her wouldn't love her."

"She is my world, Arthur. No matter how much you think you love her, my love for her is tenfold more."

"I know that. But don't you see, we are not in competition for her. I'm not taking her away to a far-off kingdom. We'll be here, in London."

"I know," Tom says softly. He is still looking out the window. "It's just too soon."

"May I ask you a question?" Arthur steps closer.

"I guess so."

"How did you know you wanted to marry Gwen's mother? How did you know that she was _the_ person that you knew you had to spend the rest of your life with? How did you know that _she_ was the missing part of your soul?"

Tom is silent. Arthur waits. Tom's shoulders drop as he exhales and he turns to face the young man.

"I can't answer that question," he finally says.

Arthur waits.

"It's not because I don't want to. I want to answer it. The words just don't exist."

"Exactly."

"_That's_ how you feel about my Guinevere?"

"Yes. I knew it the instant she first looked into my eyes."

He drops his head. "I know."

"Tom, I know what you're worried about. I know all about Lance. She told me," Arthur says quietly. _I hope that's what he's worried about, anyway,_ he thinks, holding his breath.

Tom looks at him, his dark eyes stern. "If you _ever…_"

"I won't. You have my word. If I do, you have my permission to find me and cut my heart out of my body. In fact, I'll come to you voluntarily, because I won't want it anymore if I should ever hurt her that way."

X

In the dining room, Gwen sits with Uther. She picks at her food, feeling awful that her appetite is gone. Leah went to so much trouble, and it was excellent fare.

Uther drinks his coffee. Occasionally he peeks at her. _I should say something,_ he thinks, _I just have no idea what._

Finally, he asks, "May I see how the ring looks on your hand?"

She holds her hand across the table to him. He takes it in his and stares at the ring he had purchased for his late wife all those years ago, now perched on the soft brown hand resting on his.

"She loved this ring."

"I imagine she did," she says quietly, then bravely adds, "I do, too."

"You know what happened?"

"Yes. Very tragic. I cannot even imagine."

"I'm sure you can, my dear." He releases her hand.

"Honestly, not really. I, um, at least have memories of my mother," she says, then quickly picks up her tea to hide behind the cup for a drink. _What are you saying? Arthur says he never speaks of her!_

"That might make it more difficult in some ways. At least you know what you're missing. Arthur never had that opportunity, and I'm afraid I was a lousy mother," he smiles.

Gwen smiles back at him, relaxing a little. _For all his pompous attitude and cold demeanor, he's not a bad guy deep down,_ she thinks.

"Um…" she wants to say something to him, but she's not sure how. Or if she should.

"Yes?"

"I… just want you to know that Arthur makes me very happy. The happiest I've ever been. And I think I do the same for him. I can't explain why we know we want to get married after only knowing each other a week." Suddenly it all comes spilling out of her. "There's no logic to it. Trust me, I've tried to find some. You're a logical man, I know this. You have to be, in your line of work. And by nature I am quite ruled by logic as well. I've gone over and over and over it in my head, and there is no logical explanation I can find that fits. We just _knew._ Immediately, like a light turning on in a dark room. Surely, if you think back…" She stops, afraid to go down that path.

Uther has been staring at her as she talks. _Fascinating girl,_ he thinks. When she trails off, he sits back in his chair. With a heavy sigh, he says, "I try not to do that. Think back. To… her. But perhaps I should."

"I know the memories hurt, Mr. Pendragon, but please try to understand. Try to remember how you felt about your wife. Arthur isn't doing this just to defy you. I don't think that's ever been his intention. In any of his decisions." Gwen speaks quietly, and reaches across and puts her hand on his.

Just then Tom and Arthur re-enter the room. They seem to be chatting companionably now. Gwen pats Uther's hand once and leans back to look at her father.

Tom holds his hand down to her, offering it. She takes it and stands, and he hugs her. She squeezes him tightly, saying, "Thank you, daddy."

"You're stuck with him now, you know," he says. Arthur grins.

Gwen looks up at her father, saying, "Good."

Arthur notices his father's slightly haunted look. "Father?"

Uther snaps out of his reverie, and looks at Arthur. "Hold on to this one, son."

"What did you do to him?" Arthur looks at Gwen, confused and impressed.

"We just chatted a bit," she says, glancing over at Uther. He actually winks at her. _Oh good, I said the right thing,_ she is relieved.

"Can we finish eating now?" Tom asks, sitting. "Because this food is really good."


	25. Chapter 25

"Well, that could have gone better, but it also could have been much worse," Arthur says to Gwen as he drives them back to his flat.

"Yes, at least we got them to come around. That was important to me." She sighs. Arthur reaches over and strokes her cheek. She turns and smiles at him.

"Did I tell you how beautiful you look today?" he asks her.

"Actually, no."

"Well, you look beautiful today, Guinevere."

"Thank you." She closes her eyes for a minute. When she opens them, she sees a supermarket a few blocks away, ahead. "Arthur, stop at the market, please. I want to cook dinner for us tonight."

"And I have nothing for you to cook, is that it?" he asks, turning into the lot.

"Yes."

Inside, she scurries around, finding the items she needs. Arthur follows, pushing the trolley. He is watching her, amused at how she seems to know exactly where she is going, but then will suddenly stop and change direction as she remembers another item she needs.

"Steak. My favorite," he says, inspecting the wares.

"I thought as much," she says, dropping a sack of flour into the cart.

"Flour?"

"Do you have flour?"

"No."

"Then yes, flour."

"What for?"

"Bread."

"I _have_ bread."

"Not _homemade_ bread."

Finally satisfied that she has everything she needs, they proceed to the queues, and after a brief argument about who is paying for these things – which Gwen wins – they make their way outside.

Gwen pushes the trolley out into the bright sunshine. She turns to say something to Arthur, and finds she is alone. She looks back and sees him just inside the doors, bending to tie his shoe.

"Gwen?" a familiar voice calls to her. She turns, hoping her ears have deceived her.

"Gwen! How are you?" Lance approaches her, arms out to give her a hug.

Arthur walks out of the doors and sees a handsome man with dark hair and olive skin approaching Gwen, arms outstretched. _Who is that?_ He watches as she extends her right hand only, causing the man to stop short.

"Lance," he hears Gwen say casually, coolly. Lance grasps her hand briefly as Arthur joins them, putting his arm around Guinevere's shoulders possessively.

"Hello," Lance says to Arthur. He nods.

"Um, Lance, this is my fiancé, Arthur Pendragon. Arthur, Lance du Lac," Gwen introduces the two men. She tries not to put too much emphasis on the word _fiancé,_ but finds she cannot help it.

"Nice to meet you," Lance says, extending his hand. "You're a very lucky man," he adds.

"I know," says Arthur, keeping his right arm around Gwen, not accepting the handshake.

"Ah," Lance says, and drops his hand.

"What are you doing here?" Gwen asks.

"My sister was married yesterday. I came over for the wedding."

"Jacqueline?"

"Angelique."

"Give her my congratulations," Gwen says. She is being civil, polite, but Arthur can feel that she is very uncomfortable. Arthur says nothing; he simply watches Lance, his face like stone.

"I'll do that," Lance says, glancing at Arthur. The man is making him uncomfortable. "Um, I'm leaving for Los Angeles in the morning, so, best of luck to you both. I... hope you'll have a happy life together," he manages. Arthur's stare is very unnerving and he is suddenly very eager to go inside and leave them.

"Thank you," Gwen says. "Goodbye, Lance."

Arthur speaks first as they drive back into the city and his apartment.

"The man has _two_ sisters and still he treated you the way he did? I'd hate to see how he'd act if someone did that to one of his sisters."

"I know. I'm glad you were there, Arthur," she tells him. He looks over at her. She looks very tired. _Well, the last few days have been quite the emotional roller coaster for her,_ he realizes.

"That was the first time you've seen him since he left, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"You were very cool. It was brilliant," he smiles at her.

"Thank you. I can't believe that he thought I'd be happy to see him," she gives him a small smile. Suddenly it grows into an impish grin. "He was very unnerved by you. What were you doing?"

"Nothing. Just... staring. I had to stop myself from saying 'good' when he told you he was going back to LA tomorrow," he laughs.

"I know, I did, too," she joins his laughter. He takes her hand and holds it as they drive. "I liked being able to introduce you as my fiancé. Especially to him."

"Best thing I'd heard all day," Arthur tells her. She closes her eyes.

Gwen is asleep by the time they reach Arthur's flat. He looks at her, unsure of what to do. _If my shoulder wasn't buggered, I'd just carry her in. I probably could do anyway, but she'd yell at me._ Frowning, he touches her cheek. "Guinevere," he says softly. She stirs.

"Sorry," she says, her voice sluggish.

"It's all right, love. You've had a hard few days, I think." He exits the car and goes around to her side, opening the door and offering his hand.

Once inside, he tells her, "Why don't you get comfortable and rest a bit. I'll bring in the food. I promise I won't carry anything heavy with my left arm." He kisses her and heads out the door.

Gwen shuffles back to Arthur's room to change clothes. By the time Arthur has everything in and put away, Gwen has changed into what Arthur has started thinking of as her "cozy wear," the black Capris and rugby t-shirt, and is lying on the couch with her head on a pillow she has brought out from Arthur's bed.

"You could have laid down on the bed," he tells her.

"I want to be out here with you."

He kneels down by her head and kisses her softly. "Have a sleep. You don't have to cook dinner if you don't want to."

"I want to. Besides, it's early yet. I'm not going to sleep the rest of the day away," she smiles, kissing him.

"Keep that up and you won't get that nap," he grins, kisses her one last time, and stands.

"Do you have a blanket?" she asks, eyes now closed again.

"Are you cold?"

"No, I just like having a blanket."

"Weird. Hang on." He goes to a closet and comes back with one, which he places over her, tucking her in.

He stands a minute, not sure what he's going to do now. He looks at a side table and sees the book he got from the library. He sits in a chair and picks it up, opening it at his bookmark.

_This tray is heavy. The king must be hungry tonight; better get him his dinner. These candles don't lend much light to these hallways. Ah, here we are._

_ "Come."_

_ "Sire, your dinner."_

_ "Ah, thank you, Guinevere."_

_ He looks too happy to see me. And the way he says my name just seems… improper. It's not the way a king should address a servant. Pour the wine._

_ "Thank you."_

_ And he's far too polite. His father never said 'thank you.' He's looking at me. Why is he looking at me? Why is he looking at me like_ that?

_"Guinevere, will you join me?"_

What? _"My lord?"_

_"I certainly have enough food here for two. Dine with me."_

_ Should I? Can I refuse him? He's the king. He's so… handsome. And he's looking at me in a way that is making my knees weak. But he's the_ king.

_"Please. Sit."_

_ Okay, I guess I'll have dinner with the king._

_ Where did he get that plate? Under the other? Did he plan this? He shouldn't be serving me. But he has all the food in front of him._

_ Surely he can't still have feelings for me. True, he's kissed me a few times, but that was long ago. I know that my feelings for him must be denied; nothing can come of them. But he makes that awfully difficult sometimes…_

_ "Here you are. Enjoy."_

_ Stop looking at me like that. I'm turning into a puddle over here. How can I possibly eat with you being so sweet and charming and… I'm a_ servant.

_"Sire, I…"_

_ "No, I won't hear it. I wish to dine with you, Guinevere. Didn't you think it odd that you were to bring my dinner instead of Merlin?"_

_ "Well…"_

_ "And surely you noticed the tray was unusually heavy."  
><em>

_ "I just thought you were hungry." Don't look at him. You do not want to lose your mind. Look at the plate._

_ "Guinevere,"_

_ Eyes, listen to me, not him! God, he's beautiful. "My lord?"_

_ "Arthur," he gently corrects her._

_ What? "Arthur." Mouth, now you betray me?_

"Arthur."

Arthur looks up from his book. Gwen is still asleep. He smiles. _She's dreaming about me,_ he thinks smugly, and goes back to reading.

Arthur's phone rings, and he practically jumps out of his skin trying to get to it, as it isn't silenced.

"Merlin," he answers quietly, walking back to his room.

"Why are you whispering?" Merlin asks.

"Gwen's asleep on the couch. It's okay; I'm back in my room now. What's up?"

"How was brunch?"

Arthur sighs and says, "Well, let me tell you…"

_I should try to eat. It would be rude not to. But my stomach is all knotted. He is eating. Don't think I don't notice you sneaking glances at me, Arthur. I see you._

_ Chicken. I like chicken. Pick up a piece. Pick. It. Up. Hmm. Pretty good. Oh God, now he's pouring me a goblet._

_ "I should be doing that."_

_ "It's all right. I'm sure I can manage pouring a little wine."_

_ His fingers are warm. Did he touch my hand on purpose? "Thank you, my lord."_

_ "Arthur," he corrects her again._

_ "I'm sorry."_

_ "Don't be. I should be apologizing to you, actually. I know my behavior tonight is quite… unusual."_

_ "Yes." Don't agree so quickly! Eat something. Take a drink. Wait, he's laughing…_

_ "Please eat. Don't be shy. We won't be disturbed."_

_ That's what's beginning to worry me. Okay. So: eat._

_ "Guinevere?"_

_ "My lo— Arthur?"_

_ "You sighed just now. What's troubling you?"_

_ I sighed? I guess I did._

_ "Nothing is troubling me."_

_ "You're sure?"_

_ "Why are you having me stay here with you?" Now you've done it. Stop now while you still may be able to. "I don't understand what your intentions are in having me have dinner with you." Don't look at him. Don't look at him._

_ "I'm surprised at you, Guinevere. You can usually read my thoughts, often before I even think them. Can you not read them now?"_

_ His fingers are surprisingly soft. He shouldn't be touching my face like this. Is it warm in here?_

_ "Arthur, it's not…"_

_ "Proper? Correct? Appropriate?"_

_ "Yes." Please move your hand away from my face. Wait, no, don't._

_ "I don't care."_

_ "Surely you don't expect me to be your…" I can't say it. I can't. But I must. "…mistress?"_

_ "No!"_

_ At least he has the decency to look shocked that I would think that. Even a little insulted?_

_ "Guinevere, do you not know? Do you not remember?"_

_ "But it cannot be, Sire."_

_ "Who is to say that it cannot? I am king now. I can make my own rules."_

_ How on earth did I end up in his lap? Why is there no air in this room? He is far too close; his hands too warm. His lips, too soft…_

Arthur hangs up with Merlin and returns to the living room. He picks up the book where he left off.

"Mmm." A small whimper comes from Gwen. It is not a whimper of fear or pain, but one of contentment. No; desire. Arthur looks over the top of his book, raising an eyebrow. She sighs and his heart speeds up.

_What am I doing? I can't… I… Oh, Arthur… I… Oh, not my neck, you have no idea…_

_ "Arthur…"_

"Arthur…" Another moan escapes from the sleeping Gwen. Arthur has abandoned his book. It is very difficult to concentrate on a young Indian boy trapped in a lifeboat with a tiger when there is a much more interesting story unfolding on his sofa.

_"Guinevere."_

_ His hair is so soft, his lips feel so good on my skin. I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't. I cannot get away. I do not want to get away. Touch me. Please, touch me. I need you so much, I want you so much, Arthur. Oh, heavens, yes, I am yours, just don't stop. Kiss me there, please… this corset is too tight…_

Gwen squirms on the couch, lips parting, breathing faster. Arthur is very intrigued and is getting very turned on. _That must be some dream she's having._ He shifts in his chair, trying to adjust for the sudden discomfort he is feeling in his trousers.

_Why did he stop?_

_ "Guinevere, I…"_

_ "Yes?" Do I look as dazed as he does?_

_ "I don't want to do anything… improper. I… it's important to me that we… wait… until…"_

_ What is he saying? Does he intend to marry me? Can he do that? Of course he can, he's the king. But_ still. _Can he?_

_ "Arthur?"_

_ "I love you, Guinevere. I have for many years now. I want to do this right."_

_ "Kiss me again." Did I just say that? Did he just obey? Wow. He did. He is._

Gwen seems to have settled down some, but Arthur still watches.

"Arthur…" she whispers again, barely audible. He can't take it any more, and goes to her, kissing her awake.

"Arthur?" she looks at him, her dream blending with reality in a very confusing way.

"You were having the most interesting dream," he says, lips brushing her neck, his warm breath caressing her skin.

"I was. And you interrupted it."

"Did I, now?"

"Yes. But you were in it anyway."

"I know."

"You do?"

"You said my name a few times. In a very… enticing way, I might add."

"It was _rather_ an interesting dream."

"Tell me about it later," he says, lips claiming hers, tongue plunging inside, kissing her senseless as he pulls her to the floor, over him, and starts pulling at her clothes.


	26. Chapter 26

"That was... unique," Gwen says.

"What, you've never made love on the floor, sandwiched between a sofa and a coffee table, before?" Arthur laughs, kissing the end of her nose. She is lying on top of him, still on the floor.

"And you have?" She leans back slightly and raises an eyebrow at him.

"Oh, yeah, all the time," he teases. She bends down and nips his earlobe. Then she climbs off of him, picking up her clothes.

He sits up and stretches his left shoulder.

"Sore?" she asks, standing in her t-shirt and underwear, holding the Capris in one hand.

"A little," he admits, angling his head to one side, admiring her. _How did I miss those knickers twice now?_ They are the boyleg kind again, lime green with yellow polka dots. Arthur tears his eyes away and reaches for his clothes, resisting the urge to pounce on her again. She strolls back to the bathroom, still holding the Capris, swinging her hips as she goes.

"You're doing that on purpose," he calls after her.

"I'm sorry, I can't hear you," she laughs.

She emerges fully dressed minutes later with a cup of water in one hand and something small cradled in the other. Arthur is dressed and sitting on the sofa. Gwen hands him the aspirin and the cup, then goes to the kitchen for some ice.

"Guinevere…"

"Shut it, you. Your shoulder is bothering you. You're going to ice it while I get the bread started."

She comes out with a tea towel and a plastic bag filled with ice. She uses the towel to tie the bag onto his shoulder, puts the remote control for the television in his hand, and commands, "Stay." Arthur scowls. She persuades him with a kiss that makes his lips feel like they've been set ablaze, and he complies, switching on the set.

Gwen rummages in the kitchen as Arthur looks for something to watch. Sunday afternoon telly tends to be crap.

"Your kitchen is pathetic," a muffled voice calls out.

"Hmm?" He hasn't heard her.

She withdraws her head from the cupboard and walks out so she can see him. He is studying the television, brows knitted. He looks both interested and disgusted.

"What are you watching?" she asks, briefly forgetting about the problems with his kitchen supplies.

"Something about hippos. I didn't realize they were so nasty."

"Yes, they're quite ill-tempered and territorial."

He looks up at her. _Of course she would know that,_ he thinks. Then he remembers his question. "What were you saying about my kitchen?"

"It's pathetic." She holds up the evidence. It is a large red plastic bowl, decorated around the edge with cartoon versions of Father Christmas. "This is what I'm going to have to use to make my bread."

He laughs. "I got that from Merlin's mum. She always gives me a bunch of homemade treats at Christmastime. Last year they were in that bowl. I usually use it for popcorn now."

Gwen rolls her eyes. "I don't suppose I'll find a decent baking sheet around here, either..."

"Next to the stove."

He hears some rattling. Then, "Arthur, this is disgusting!" She turns the water on, apparently in an attempt to give the pan a good soak and a clean.

She emerges again, hands on her hips, giving him an exasperated look.

"Well, when you move in here, you'll just have to remedy my kitchen situation, won't you?" he grins at her. She is disarmed by the grin on his face and the surprise of his statement.

Gwen stands and stares, mouth open.

"Oh, I... I don't mean right _now._ I mean, you don't have to..." he stops, flustered, and scowls. _This is not coming out right._ "All I mean is that the invitation is open, whenever you're ready. I know you have to talk to Morgana and everything, but I want you to know that I want you here. With me."

She smiles, and walks back into the kitchen, out of view.

Gwen is in the middle of her bread when Arthur decides he is done with his ice. He wanders over, bag of melting cubes in one hand, towel in the other. After depositing the ice bag in the sink and the towel on the counter, he decides to investigate what Gwen is doing.

She has her hair twisted up and held with a large plastic clip, and he focuses on the back of her slender neck as he approaches. Gwen is adding flour, mixing with her hands to bring the dough together. She sprinkles flour on the table and as she dumps the dough out onto it, she feels Arthur's hands snake around her waist and his lips kiss the back of her neck.

"Feeling better?" she asks, kneading the dough.

"Much," he says, nuzzling into her neck.

"I'm trying to work here, you know," she says, smiling.

"So am I," he kisses the side of her neck.

"What has gotten into you today?" she asks, stopping her task and closing her eyes briefly as she feels his hands sneak beneath the bottom edge of her shirt and caress the warm skin of her stomach.

He answers her by taking her earlobe into his mouth and sucking it briefly before gently biting it. His knuckles graze the underside of her breasts beneath her shirt.

"Arthur…"

"Hmm?"

"I'm up to my elbows in bread dough."

"I'm not interested in your elbows." He lifts her chin up and back to kiss her lips.

She sighs into him, then tells him gently, "Later, love."

He kisses her once more. "I don't know what it is today, but I just can't get enough of you." He looks at her hand. "Where's your ring?"

"In my pocket. I didn't want it to get full of dough. It's perfectly safe and will be back on my hand as soon as they're clean, I promise."

"Good," he says. "Can I try?"

"What, kneading the dough?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know. I don't think it'll be good for your shoulder."

"Oh, come on, how hard can it be?"

"Watch." She sprinkles some more flour. She pushes the dough away, then folds it towards her, turning it as she does so. She repeats this several times. Arthur watches, and he notices the muscles in her hands and arms flexing as she works, shoving the dough with her whole upper body.

"Wow, that's quite a workout, isn't it?"

"It can be." She rolls the dough into a large round ball and covers it with a towel. "I'm fairly certain that as long as I regularly bake bread I won't get those upper arm flaps so many older women have."

Arthur laughs at this, and reaches down to slide his fingers along her arms. She squirms away to go wash her hands, noticing Arthur watching as she puts the ring back on her finger. _So important to him,_ she thinks, and gives him a smile as she turns to start preparing the rest of their dinner.

"So I was a _king?_" he asks while they eat.

"Yes. Don't go getting an inflated ego over it, Arthur, it was only a dream," she says, pointing her fork at him.

"And you were a servant?" he goads her.

"Yes. And you couldn't keep your regal hands off me, _your majesty,_" she puts as much sarcasm as she can into the title. "So who really has the power, then?"

Arthur opens his mouth to respond, thinks better of it, and takes a drink instead.

"Thought so," Gwen says, smiling.

Arthur is thoughtful for a moment. "So. This dream. It's not the first you've had like this. The medieval time period."

"No, I've actually had several."

"Does it mean something, do you think?"

"What, like reincarnation? Do you believe in reincarnation?"

"I didn't, but I might be open to discussion about it now," he takes a bite of his steak. It is perfectly medium-rare and delicious. "Do you?"

"I don't know. Either my brain is fixated on some sort of medieval role-play fantasy I didn't know I had," she pauses, noting Arthur's raised eyebrows at this statement, "or we have something implausible on which we can blame our equally implausible relationship."

"Blame?"

"You know what I mean. We're grasping for explanations. This is an explanation. It's not a _good_ one, nor is it one I'd be freely spouting off, but it certainly qualifies."

"If you believe in that kind of thing."

"If you believe in that kind of thing," she repeats.

Arthur puts his fork down decisively. "All I know is that I am yours and you are mine, and if there is a reason for it, great. If not, I don't even care anymore. The only thing that matters to me is that we found each other. Whatever the reason."

"Fate or dumb luck, either way I'm happy. Very." Gwen agrees. She smiles at him, a soft, seductive smile that looks especially delicious in the candlelight by which they are dining.

Arthur inhales deeply, and he realizes that he is fighting back the urge to sweep everything off the table and take her right there. _What has gotten into me today, indeed?_ he thinks.


	27. Chapter 27

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm completely soaked," Gwen laughs as they scurry into Arthur's flat. They had gone out for a walk after dinner, but failed to check the weather forecast. They got caught in a surprise summer rainstorm and had to run home.

"Best get you out of those wet clothes, then," Arthur teases. She runs down the hall ahead of him, out of his grasp. "Oh, no, you don't…" he calls, following behind, not running, but taking long swift strides through the room and down the hall.

He finds her in the bathroom, toweling off her hair, laughing. He peels his wet shirt off and grabs a towel himself, rubbing his head and torso. Arthur goes to reach for her again, and again she slips through his grasp.

"Guinevere…" he warns, following her back to his room, where she is changing into his t-shirt. She sits on the bed, and he takes that as an invitation. _Why did she bother putting that shirt on?_ he wonders as he approaches, removing his wet shorts so he is just in his underwear.

He leans over to kiss her. She lets him, but she won't let him lay her back onto the bed. She pushes back, and scoots away from him, further onto the bed.

"Sit," she tells him. He puzzles at her, but sits.

"No, face the other way," she says.

"Um, okay. What are you doing?"

Gwen reaches for a bottle of lotion she has brought and squirts some into her hands, rubbing them together to warm it. Reaching up, she massages Arthur's shoulders, gently working his sore left one, being more aggressive with the uninjured side.

"Ohhhh…" Arthur moans, dropping his head forward and closing his eyes. His shoulders feel tingly. "What is that you're putting on me?"

"It has peppermint oil in it. That's what you feel," she tells him. She is kneeling behind him, sliding her hands over his muscled back, fingers hitting spots he didn't even realize needed attention.

"Oh I am _so_ marrying you," he groans. She chuckles and kisses his ear. She moves her hand back over to his left shoulder.

"The bruising is looking much better," she says. "Let me know if I hurt you."

"You won't."

"I might. So don't be brave for me."

"Okay," he says, humoring her. He closes his eyes again. _She is amazing._

Gwen continues, occasionally treating Arthur to a kiss as she works. Here on his neck, there on his cheek, over here on his ear. Once she intentionally presses herself against his back, making him groan. _He's not going to just sit there much longer,_ she thinks, _not after how he's been acting all day._

She leans her head down, places a wet kiss on his neck, then leaves the bed to go wash her hands. Arthur feels abandoned. She returns a moment later, and scoots back on to the bed behind him. He turns around and grabs her by the ankles, gently pulling her to the edge of the bed, easing himself off of it.

"Arthur, what are you…" she begins, but is cut off by the sensation of his hands running up her thighs, under her backside, pulling her closer. He leans over and kisses her, tongue delving into her mouth, and she responds immediately, meeting his seeking tongue with her own. His hands are still behind her rear, and he his pulling at her panties. She lifts herself to help him remove them, and he breaks away from her lips, leaving her breathless.

He yanks her to the edge of the bed. He kneels on the floor and drops his head between her legs, tongue darting out to stroke her. Gwen falls back, hands grasping at the bedcovers, head tossing from side to side.

"Arthur…" she gasps, and his hand slips up under her shirt to reach for a breast, his mouth already driving her mad as he runs his tongue along her moist folds, swirling around the sensitive bundle of nerves there, swollen in its arousal. He runs his thumb across her nipple and thrusts his tongue deep into her, and she cries out. He smiles against her warmth, relishing his affect on her.

He pulls away for just a second, to catch his breath.

"Don't stop," Gwen pleads, arching her back.

_All right, then,_ he thinks, grinning, as he dives back in, very lightly grazing her most sensitive point with his teeth before pressing his tongue to her, slowly, gently, pushing her beyond all reason. His hand continues teasing her breasts, and, remembering how much she liked it before, he inserts a finger into her as he licks and kisses. Then two fingers. Gwen climaxes almost immediately after this, actually shouting, "Oh!" as she does so.

Arthur leans back, bites her inner thigh gently, kisses her knee, and stands. He watches her lay there like a contented cat, a lazy smile on her face, eyes closed. _So beautiful,_ he thinks. He crawls on to the bed next to her and pulls her to him. She snuggles into him, resting her hand on his chest.

"Have I told you today that I love you?" she asks him.

"No, I don't think you have, actually," he says, kissing the top of her head.

"I love you, Arthur." She presses her palm to his chest, then runs it down to his stomach.

"And I love you, Guinevere." He leans his head down as he lifts her chin to his face for a kiss. Her hand slides further down and burrows inside his underpants, grasping him. "Let me help you with that," he says, yanking the pants down and casting them aside. "And this," he grabs her t-shirt and pulls it over her head.

She leans over him, pressing him gently to the bed, kissing him deeply. She reaches back down for his erection, taking it in her hand, stroking him. He pulls his lips away from hers, groaning. _That's probably why she washed her hands,_ he vaguely thinks, realizing the peppermint lotion could be quite painful if applied to certain areas. He actually laughs for a second at this, and Gwen stops and looks at him.

"Sorry, I just realized why you washed your hands," he grins, and she chuckles, resuming her motion. She kisses her way down his chest, leaving a trail of liquid fire as she goes. Down, further, until she takes him in her mouth and he grunts, his entire body feeling like it is melting.

Gwen continues to pleasure him, using her mouth and her hand together in concert. Arthur's body jerks slightly beneath her, and she runs her teeth ever so gently along the length of him. He groans again and reaches over, finding a breast to hold and toy with as she does incredibly delicious things to him with her mouth.

"Gwen…" he starts. She assumes he is just saying her name and continues.

"Guinevere," he says again, placing his hand on her shoulder. She stops and looks at him.

"Come back up here," he says, his voice labored, breathing rough.

She looks puzzled. "Is there something wrong?" she asks, worried.

"No, love, not at all. Come here," he reaches for her and pulls her gently to him. "I just want this to last longer. And I want to… be inside you." He whispers this into her hair, hand caressing her backside as she nestles against him.

"Oh," she says, wondering at him. His hand roves around, stroking her rear, skimming across her skin up to her breast, where he starts to rub and tease a nipple.

Arthur leans down, claiming her lips with his again. He gives her nibbling kisses, sucking at her lower lip, teasing her tongue with the tip of his own until she can no longer think straight.

"Arthur…" she sighs, her hands roaming over his body, as if they aren't sure where they want to land.

He turns, crawling on top of her, over her, surrounding her with himself.

"Your shoulder," she reminds him.

"Is fine," he tells her. She squints at him, not believing him. "I promise I will move if it hurts," he says, then resumes his activity, kissing his way down her neck to her breasts, treating their now over-sensitized tips to the attentions of his lips and tongue. Gwen's eyes drift close and she runs her fingers into his hair, holding his head.

She reaches down with one hand to find him again, to bring him to her. She wants him inside her. Needs him inside her. "Arthur, please," she whispers, and his eyes fly to hers. _That's new,_ he thinks, but his is only too happy to oblige. He repositions himself over her and lets her guide him into her warmth.

_She feels so good,_ he thinks, temporarily and conveniently forgetting that he has been here two other times today. He begins to move, slowly, torturing both of them, prolonging the sweet agony.

Gwen is ready to start begging, he is going so slowly. He glides forward again, and she manages to open her legs wider, allowing him to bury himself deeper as she winds her feet around his legs, pulling him toward her with her legs, holding him there, rooted deep within her, not moving. He drops down for another kiss, and she relaxes her legs, allowing him to move again.

He gradually starts to move faster, still driving into her as deep as he can with each thrust. Her breathing is ragged, labored, and he growls in the back of his throat in time with his movements.

Arthur takes her hands in his, twining his fingers with hers, pinning her to the mattress. He leans down and takes her earlobe in his mouth, nibbles it a bit, then kisses his way back to her lips.

Gwen can feel her climax coming on, and "more…" escapes from her lips without her even realizing it. Arthur hears it, however, and plows into her harder, faster, until she opens her mouth wide in a silent scream of ecstasy. The sight of her in her throes pushes him over the edge and he comes a moment later, his entire body shuddering, his feet twitching, the veins in his neck sticking out as he throws his head back and grunts.

He releases her hands and sinks down over her, rolling them to their sides so he doesn't squash her.

"Oh, my God," Gwen says after a few minutes. "What was that?"

"That was _something._ That's what that was," Arthur replies. Gwen kisses him, spent and happy and exhausted.

Arthur reaches down and pulls the covers over them. He knows how tired he is, and imagines Gwen feels the same. _Of course, she got a nap,_ he thinks, but when he looks at her he can see she can barely keep her eyes open. He lifts his head and reaches over to turn on his alarm clock for Gwen and switch off the light.


	28. Chapter 28

_Why am I cold?_ Arthur is slowly waking. He gropes around, feeling for Guinevere, eyes still closed. No Gwen. _Oh. That's why_

He opens his eyes when he hears the shower turn on. _Good, I haven't missed her,_ he thinks, swinging his feet to the floor. He feels groggy this morning. _It's your own damn fault, man. You were the one that couldn't keep your hands off of her._

Several hours after they had fallen asleep, Arthur had woken up and decided he was ready for Round Four, and so he kissed and caressed Guinevere into compliant wakefulness. They made sleepy love before passing out again, exhausted.

Arthur staggers down the hall to the bathroom. He pokes his head into the shower saying, "Good morning, my love."

Gwen's back is to him and she turns her head and makes eyes at him over her shoulder. "Good morning," she smiles at him. He beckons to her and she leans over, kisses him, and then pushes his head back out to the other side of the shower curtain with a giggle.

He stands there for a moment. _Oh, no._

"Um, Gwen?"

"Yes?"

"Are you… close to being done in there?"

"Not really, why?"

"Well, just stay in there a bit. I'll let you know when it's safe to come out."

"Safe?" she asks. _What is he doing out there?_

"Just trust me."

"Arthur, what are you talking about?"

"Well, um…"

"Yes?"

"Let's just say nature is calling, and at the moment she is calling me to sit down."

Much to Arthur's surprise, Gwen laughs. "Well, don't let me stop you," she says.

"Um, thanks?"

Gwen laughs again, saying, "Honestly, Arthur, everyone does."

"Well, if it's all the same to you, I'd really rather not think about that. At least not pertaining to you." _I suppose I should be glad that she's that comfortable with me,_ he thinks. Gwen is still chuckling from inside the shower.

"Oh, Arthur, Morgana's sent a text this morning." She changes the subject.

"Oh?"

"Yes. She says that you need a haircut and that you are to be at her salon at nine."

"Am I, now? Alone?"

"Yes. I promise she'll behave. And she really does excellent work."

"But…"

"Or you can choose not to show and face the consequences."

The toilet flushes. "Hmm. I guess I do look a bit scruffy."

"There won't really be anyone there that early anyway," she reassures him, turning off the shower. She steps out to find Arthur standing there with her towel open, waiting to receive her.

He wraps the towel and his arms around her and kisses her still-wet neck.

"All right, you, I do have to get to work this morning," she pulls away from him. "I'm actually a bit sore from all your... attention yesterday," she tells him.

"Oh, sorry about that." He blushes. "I guess I _was_ a bit affectionate yesterday. Not sure why exactly, but I just had to... have you. As much as possible."

Gwen gives him a kiss, and says, "I think I know why; it's okay."

"You do?"

"Yes. You'd never admit it, but you crave affection, unconditional love, Arthur. You were denied that, though," she says softly, putting her hand on his cheek. "And since you've put this ring on my finger, well..."

They regarded each other in the poignant silence that followed her statement, leaving Arthur's tragically absent mother and Uther's somewhat cold upbringing unspoken. Arthur turns his head and kisses her palm.

Gwen rises up on tiptoe and kisses him softly, whispering, "Every woman should feel so loved."

She sighs, gently stroking his cheek, a half smile still playing about her lips. As she turns to leave, she stops and says, "I'm not going anywhere. I love you, Arthur Pendragon, with my entire soul."

Once alone, he smiles sadly, finally allowing the tears to fall, caused by words he never knew he needed to hear.

At the library, Gwen decides not to make any big announcements. She is not that close with anyone there, and doesn't want to draw attention. Besides, those two nosy girls will be sure to pounce as soon as they see the ring. And they will see it.

Gwen is not disappointed. As soon as she walks behind the circulation desk, Vivian zeros in on the ring as if Gwen had a giant red arrow pointing at it.

"What. Is. _That?_" Vivian asks, scurrying forward and grabbing Gwen's hand.

"Really, Vivian, it's an engagement ring. What does it look like?" Gwen replies, using the voice she uses when talking to a slightly naughty child.

"He _proposed?_ That gorgeous blonde guy you've been parading around here?"

"I have not been _parading_ him…" she stops, refusing to be drawn in. She sighs, and says, "Yes. Saturday night."

"That's a huge diamond! Is he rich?"

"That is none of your business."

"So he _is!_"

Gwen rolls her eyes and extracts her hand, turning to help some visitors. Vivian scuttles away, presumably to go gossip with Elana.

At eleven thirty, Gwen is checking out some books for Dr. Gaius. "That's a lovely ring, Gwen," he tells her.

"Thank you, Dr. Gaius," she smiles.

"Have you set a date?"

"Not yet. He just asked me Saturday."

"May I?"

"Of course," she says, offering her hand for his inspection.

"Very nice. This is old. Family heirloom?" He studies the ring.

Gwen is surprised. "Yes! It was his mother's. She died when he was born. How did you…"

"I have seen a lot of diamond rings in my time, my dear," he says and releases her hand. "Make sure you send me an invitation," he adds.

"Of course," she tells him.

_It's about time they found each other,_ Gaius thinks as he winks at her and turns to leave.

She watches him walk out the door, and through the glass she sees Arthur approaching. He stops, taking Gaius' bags and carrying them to his car for him. She moves so she can see them. Gaius shakes Arthur's hand warmly, placing his hand on the younger man's shoulder. He says something to Arthur, and Arthur nods solemnly.

Arthur pats Gaius on the shoulder and returns on his original path to the library. Gwen is waiting for him behind the desk.

"Hello, handsome," she greets him, "Nice haircut." Morgana hasn't talked him into trying a new style, thankfully, but he looks tidier, more handsome. _If that was even possible,_ she thinks.

"Yeah, not bad, hey?"

"Did she behave?"

"Yes, she was a good girl. I prefer you washing my hair, but I guess that can't be helped." He grins at her, and she leans forward, hopping up onto the counter a bit to kiss him.

"She didn't even charge me, either," he adds. "Just a kiss on the cheek."

"I thought as much. She does my hair for free as well. Morgana and I think of each other as family, and apparently you fall under that umbrella now as well. What did Dr. Gaius say to you?"

His brows knit briefly. "He said that I had better take good care of you because you are a very special girl. Which I knew."

Gwen smiles at this.

"But then he said something odd."

"What?"

"He said, 'You two are destined to be together, you know.' Then he got in his car and closed the door."

Gwen blinks. "That is odd."

"Well, he's old. Sometimes old people say odd things," he shrugs.

"Arthur!" she exclaims, but laughs despite herself. "Perhaps he is just wise in ways we cannot fathom," she says with mock mysticism.

Arthur laughs at her uncharacteristic display of silliness. Then he looks at his watch and sighs. "Gotta get going, love. See you Wednesday." He leans over and kisses her again.

"I love you," he tells her.

"I love you. Be—"

"—Be safe, I know," he smiles at her, gives her one more kiss, and turns to leave.

"Arthur," she says as he walks to the doors, "I'm going to talk to Morgana tonight. About the living situation."

He turns and grins at her one last time before he exits.

"Is this some new service the library is providing?" a man says to Elana at the second counter behind the desk, his eyes on Arthur and Gwen kissing six feet away.

"If you treat me the way he treats her, I'll consider it," she tells him, checking out his books.

The man chuckles and turns to leave. Elana walks over to Gwen.

"Wow," Elana says.

"Yes, yes, I know the ring is huge," Gwen says, waving her hand dismissively.

"No, not that. Well, yes, it _is,_ but the wow was for him. The way he looks at you… he really loves you."

Gwen just smiles.

"I'm very happy for you. And jealous. I hope one day to find that kind of love," Elana says.

Gwen is surprised. Elana is usually quiet, never saying much about how she feels about anything. "I hope you do, too. And you will." Gwen smiles at the girl.

Arthur arrives at the firehouse, dumps his bag by his bunk, then heads for the kitchen. As expected, he finds Leon working on lunch.

"Leon," he calls. Leon turns and Arthur hands him something.

Leon takes the folded sheet of paper and looks at it.

"What's this?" he asks.

"It's from Gwen."

Leon opens the page and sees the cookie recipe. "She remembered," he smiles, looking it over.

"What have you got there?" Paul wanders over, peeking over Leon's shoulder.

"It's the recipe for those cookies from Arthur's girlfriend," Leon tells him, and Paul's eyes light up.

"Fiancée," Merlin corrects him from where he is seated at a table, going over some papers with another EMT.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouts, more out of surprise than irritation.

"Sorry, did I steal your thunder?" Merlin grins. Arthur rolls his eyes.

"Congratulations, Chief," Leon says, grasping Arthur's hand warmly.

"Yeah, she seems wonderful," Paul chimes in.

"What's going on?" Wayne has arrived and is curious about the commotion.

"Arthur's getting married," Leon tells him.

"To that little brown crumpet that was here last week? Nice work," he says, slapping him on the shoulder.

"All right, lads, let's let Leon get back to making our lunch. I want to run some training drills today," Arthur says, ready to change the subject before he starts blushing.

He walks past Merlin and gives him a light thump on the back of the head.

Gwen is shelving, and it is late afternoon. _Almost time to go,_ she thinks, and realizes she has to go home to her own apartment, with only Morgana to keep her company. She loves Morgana, but she's certainly not Arthur. _My own lonely bed, with only my bear to keep me company, no strong arms to hold me through the night._ She sighs. Then she hears the sirens. They are close. Very close.

She rushes to the window, not far away, and watches. Her hand is once again pressed to the glass. The sirens are getting louder, coming from the left. As she watches, the engine comes roaring past, and her eyes lock on the driver. Time seems to slow down so that she can see his blonde hair, slightly obscured by a headset, driving the engine down the street. His face turns and looks in her direction – she thinks – as the truck screams down the street. Gwen watches, forehead to the glass, face turned to the right, until she can no longer see them.

"Yes, I am perfectly fine to at least drive the truck," Arthur declares, staring down Merlin. "We've no time to debate this. I'm going." With that, he swings up into the driver's seat and fires up the engine.

The fire is on the far side of the downtown area, and he knows the fastest route will take him past the library. He maneuvers the large vehicle expertly, winding through the traffic that pulls out of his way as they hear the sirens and see the lights.

He sees the library approaching, and he scans the windows. _No… no… no… there._ He spots her in the last window, standing just as he saw her the first time. He turns his face and spares a second to watch her as he roars past. _She saw me._ Somehow he knows she has.

Guinevere waits for his text. It comes an hour and a half later. _Saw you. :) I only drove the truck._

"Gwen?" Elana's head pokes into her office door.

Gwen looks up, "Yes?"

"More flowers for you," she brings them in. "I can't imagine who they're from," she giggles. In her hands is a crystal vase containing one dozen lavender colored roses.

Gwen smiles and thanks her. Elana sighs and walks out the door as Gwen opens the card.

_Thank you. I love you very much. –A_


	29. Chapter 29

**2 WEEKS LATER, FRIDAY**

Guinevere has taken the day off. She and Arthur are moving her things to Arthur's flat. They've been making runs back and forth all day, and have taken a break to eat a dinner of curry takeaway.

Morgana comes home during their dinner, and she retrieves a plate for herself and sits.

"How's it going?" she asks them as she pokes through the boxes and scoops some dishes onto her plate.

"Almost done. I think we can get the rest in one more trip," Gwen says.

"Good. Because we're going out tonight," Morgana declares.

"Morgana…" Gwen starts to protest. She is tired.

"No. I won't hear any arguments. We are going out. We are meeting Merlin at Excalibur at eight. No discussion."

Gwen looks at Arthur, who says, "Well, don't expect us to stay very late. We've been lugging boxes and things all day. Plus, don't you need to be up in the morning?"

"Elizabeth won't be _that_ early," Morgana says.

"I thought you said she was eager to get out of her parents' house?" Arthur asks.

"Yes, but remember she likes her evenings out as well. So. After dinner, take the rest of your rubbish to Arthur's, change clothes, and meet me over there at eight."

"Rubbish!" Gwen exclaims, feigning offense, but she cannot help but laugh.

"I don't really want to go out, you know," Arthur tells her. They are obediently changing clothes and getting ready to leave.

"Neither do I, but it's the least we can do, since I'm abandoning her for you," she tells him, walking over to him and fixing his collar, which was half flipped inside his shirt. He pulls her into his arms, shoulder now healed, and leans her back for a kiss. She reaches up and hangs on to his neck.

"I want to stay here with you and… get you properly moved in," he says suggestively, kissing her again, his tongue searching for hers as he holds her suspended in his arms. She kisses him back, enjoying the moment, the feel of his arms around her, his soft lips and warm, wet tongue on hers.

"We need to go," she whispers against him.

"No," he protests.

"Arthur."

"I know," he gives in, pulling her upright again. "You look beautiful," he adds.

"Thank you. But you know now that I'm living here, you're going to see the worst of me," she smirks, pulling out of his arms to put her shoes on.

"I'm sure your worst is still impossibly cute." This earns him a guffaw from Gwen.

They arrive at the club and find Merlin and Morgana waiting outside for them.

"Seems quiet here tonight. That's weird," Arthur says as they reach their friends.

They walk through the doors and the place is dark.

"Are they open?" Gwen asks quietly.

"Of course they're open; the doors were unlocked," Arthur replies.

"SURPRISE!" Suddenly there are people everywhere; friends and family.

"Morgana!" Gwen exclaims, wheeling on her friend, who is grinning madly. So is Merlin. Hugs are had all around, and they walk further into the club.

"How did you manage this?" Arthur asks Merlin.

"Morgana did it. She knows someone, apparently."

"The owner's wife. I do her hair," she explains.

"That's quite a favor, having them close the club for us," Arthur says, impressed.

"We bartered. She'll be getting her hair done for free for a several months," Morgana says, laughing.

"Arthur," a deep and familiar voice calls behind them.

"Father!" Arthur turns, surprised. His father gives him a brief hug, then turns to Gwen.

"Hello, my dear," he says, hugging Gwen warmly. Arthur watches them, wondering what spell his fiancée cast over his father at that brunch. _Probably just being herself,_ he thinks.

"Are you keeping her all to yourself, Uther?" Gwen's father finds them, and pulls his daughter to him for a hug.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Tom," Uther says, and the two men shake hands.

"Arthur, good to see you," Tom offers his hand, which Arthur grasps. "How's the shoulder?"

"Right as rain once again," Arthur tells him. He spots Merlin's mother off to one side, and wants to introduce Gwen. "If you'll excuse us, I see someone I want Guinevere to meet."

"Behave yourselves, gentlemen," Gwen warns them playfully as she allows herself to be pulled away. Arthur also grabs Merlin as they walk.

"Arthur!" Merlin's mother sees them coming and walks to meet them, arms outstretched. She gives Arthur a tight hug.

"Oh, that's fine, mother, I'm not here or anything," Merlin teases.

"Merlin, I already saw _you,_ you jealous boy," she smiles at her son, patting his cheek sweetly.

"Helena, this is Gwen. Gwen, this is Merlin's mother, Helena," Arthur introduces them.

"So nice to meet you, Gwen. Merlin has told me about you. Seems you've stolen our Arthur's heart clean away," she smiles and holds Gwen's hand between both of her own.

"Nice to meet you, too," she says, noting there is no ring on Helena's hand. She is a lovely woman, with dark hair and blue eyes like her son, but short like Gwen. _I wonder why she and Uther never…_ Gwen thinks randomly.

They chat for a bit, and Gwen learns that Helena thinks of Arthur as almost another son, and Arthur is quite fond of her as well.

They cruise around the room, mingling. They chat with Leon and his wife, Thea. Paul envelops Gwen in a large hug, smiling broadly at them. Arthur meets Gwen's cousins Freya and Ethan.

Morgana intercepts them. "Who is _that?_" she asks, pointing.

"Him? That's Wayne. He works with Arthur."

"Yum," Morgana says, clearly appreciating what she sees. "Single?" she asks Arthur.

"Most definitely," Arthur tells her, sneaking a sideways glance at Gwen that says _this could be interesting._

"Hmmm…" Morgana watches him, debating.

"Play hard to get. It will drive him crazy," Gwen tells her. Arthur just about sprays his drink when she says this. He coughs, sputtering, and Gwen pats his back as Morgana wanders in Wayne's direction, swinging her hips seductively. She walks right past him, flips her hair, and continues on to go talk to Gwen's father. Wayne definitely notices. The fact that she is wearing a short, tight black dress doesn't hurt at all, either.

"She's good," Arthur says to Gwen. Gwen laughs. Arthur takes advantage of their brief moment alone and pulls her to him. She wraps her arms around his waist and rests her chin on his chest, looking up at him.

"This was really nice of them," she says up at him.

"Unbelievable," he agrees, kissing her on the forehead. "Oh, wait, he's going for it," he says, turning her around so they both can watch, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her head.

Wayne waits until Morgana leaves Tom, and approaches her. He introduces himself and offers his hand. When Morgana gives hers, he does the same thing he did to Gwen – he kisses it. Gwen laughs, a little snort. Morgana raises an eyebrow at him, slides her hand out of his, says something, and walks away again. Wayne stands, dumbfounded, and when Morgana is three steps away, she turns her head back, looks at him, and then continues on her way, this time to the bar. They see the defeat in Wayne's face, but something else as well.

"The chase is on," Arthur whispers to Gwen. She laughs again.

"Oh, no," Gwen says, her laughter abruptly stopping. Morgana is standing on the bar with a microphone in her hand.

"Hello? Helloooo… Hi. For those of you who don't know me, my name is Morgana, and I am Gwen's best friend and now _former_ roommate."

This statement is met with some cheers and whistles from the firefighters in attendance. Champagne is now being circulated around the room.

"I just wanted to thank everyone for coming to celebrate Gwen and Arthur's engagement. And I cannot forget to thank Merlin for his help. I couldn't have done this without you, my friend." She throws him a kiss, and he grins and waves. "We are sorry about the short notice, however. But throwing a party for two people who get engaged after one week is a dangerous thing, you know. I'm actually surprised we didn't have to turn the party into a wedding reception!"

This is met with laughter, as their short courtship has now become a common topic for teasing the two of them.

"In all seriousness, though—wait, does everyone have their champagne? Gwen, did you take one? Good. Arthur, you are getting simply the best woman in the world. Take good care of her. Make her smile, make her laugh, make her [i]scream,[/i]" she says this last as suggestively as she can manage, eliciting more cheers and catcalls, "make her happy. Gwen, keep him in line and on his toes. Or on his back, your choice." She winks, then raises her champagne flute. "To Arthur and Gwen," she announces.

"To Arthur and Gwen," the room echoes, and everyone drinks to their happiness.

Gwen takes the tiniest sip of her champagne, and makes a face.

"So _that's_ why you don't drink?" Merlin asks. He had moved to join them during Morgana's speech. "You don't like the taste?"

"Pretty much, yes. It all tastes like total crap to me," she says, handing her champagne to Arthur.

"Ooo. The show's back on," Arthur says, inclining his head to the bar area.

"What show?" Merlin asks.

"Shh. Watch," Arthur tells him.

Wayne offers his hand to Morgana to help her down from the bar. She hesitates deliberately, then takes it. She steps down to a barstool, and once there, Wayne sweeps her into his arms and lifts her down, setting her gently on the floor, intentionally sliding her down slowly, holding her close to him. He has a determined and lustful look in his eyes. Their audience can practically see the sparks.

"They'll either kill each other or fall madly in love," Merlin says.

"We know," Arthur and Gwen answer together. "That's what's making it so much fun to watch," Arthur adds.

They can see Morgana say, "Thank you," to Wayne. Somehow she manages to say even that suggestively, because Wayne's breathing quickens as she pulls out of his arms to find the stiletto heels she abandoned to climb up on the bar.

"Fifteen minutes," Arthur says.

"Five," says Gwen.

"I'll take ten," Merlin joins in.

"A pound each?" Arthur raises an eyebrow at them.

"Done." Gwen and Merlin answer.

Morgana continues to work the room as if her profession was throwing parties. She chats with Freya a minute, and Merlin asks Gwen, "Who's that girl?"

"My cousin, Freya."

"She's cute. The man she was with was…?"

Gwen smiles. "Her brother, Ethan. Go introduce yourself, Merlin."

"No, I couldn't."

"Come on, you both work in the medical field, you know. So you have something in common," Arthur says.

"Really? What does she do?"

"She's a veterinarian at the London Zoo," Gwen tells him.

"Well, that's not _exactly…_" he hesitates.

"Merlin, don't be such a girl. Go. We'll keep you posted on the status of our— hello, what's this?" Arthur's attention is shifted as he sees Wayne suddenly pull Morgana into his arms, kissing her passionately.

Gwen smiles, knowing she's won the bet. Even when Morgana pulls away from Wayne and slaps him, she is confident. Because a second later, she is kissing _him_ right back, shoving him against a wall on the far side of the club.

"Pay up, boys." Gwen holds out her hand for her two pounds. Once paid, she pushes Merlin. "_Go._"


	30. Chapter 30

Midnight. Gwen is dead on her feet. More accurately, she is dead in Arthur's lap, her head on his shoulder. He absently strokes her back softly as they sit at a table, chatting with Leon and Thea. Their fathers had left two hours prior, discussing something about meeting Monday morning at the bank to switch Tom's accounts over to Uther's bank.

_It was bound to happen,_ Arthur had told Gwen, and she laughed.

"Well, dear, I suppose we should get home and relieve the babysitter," Leon says, standing and holding his hand out to Thea. She takes it and stands.

"It was so nice to meet you, Gwen," she says, then adds with an impish smile, "We shall have to get together sometime and commiserate."

"I'd like that very much," Gwen says, standing to hug them both. Arthur stands as well to hug Thea and shake Leon's hand.

"See you tomorrow, Chief," Leon says. He puts his arm around his wife's shoulders and they leave.

"Ugh, don't remind me," Arthur replies, looking at Gwen.

"It will give me time to get settled in," Gwen tells him, taking his hand.

"I know, but I hate working weekends now that I have you. Last weekend was the worst, not seeing you until Sunday."

"I know; it went by so slowly. I need to coordinate my work schedule so I work the same Saturdays as you," she smiles. "It was good timing for my time of the month, though," she says, laughing.

"Ach, I don't want to hear about that, thank you very much," he grimaces and she laughs at him.

Gwen looks around the room. All that remain are the young and single. Morgana and Wayne have disappeared completely and Merlin has been sitting at a table talking with Freya for the last hour.

"Let's go home," she says.

"Please."

As they walk to the door, Gwen slides her hand into Arthur's front trouser pocket.

"Whoa! What are… oh," he says as she extracts her hand, clutching his car keys.

"I'm driving," she declares. She knows exactly what he's had to drink this evening. It's not terrifically much, but certainly enough. Arthur does not protest.

Back at Arthur's flat – their flat now, Gwen stands just inside the door and surveys the boxes littering the room. She sighs.

"You have the rest of the weekend, love, don't worry about it," Arthur tells her, pulling her into his arms.

"I'm not worried about it, I just don't _want_ to do it," she laughs.

"Lazy," he teases her.

"That would be correct." She lifts her face to his for a kiss, which he happily grants.

"Tired?" he asks, lifting his lips away from hers.

"Not _that_ tired."

With that, Arthur stoops down, wraps his arms around her and lifts her feet from the floor. She hugs his neck and as he walks down the hall, navigating through her things, she wraps her legs around his waist to further support herself as he walks.

"Mmm," he registers his pleasure at her legs surrounding him. She kisses the side of his neck. He lets go of her to drop her on the bed, but she hangs on, laughing.

"Ha, nice try," she challenges.

"All right then," he turns around so his back is to the bed and falls backward onto it, landing with her on top of him.

"Whoa!" she laughs harder.

"Hey, I could have fallen forward, you know," he is laughing, too, then he captures her lips in his, kissing her fiercely, hungrily.

Straddling him, Gwen pulls away suddenly, and Arthur pouts for a moment until she starts undressing him.

She unbuttons his shirt, kissing each inch of flesh she exposes as she goes. Arthur closes his eyes, enjoying the familiar burn of her lips on his skin. Arthur feels her run her tongue down his stomach to his navel, planting a kiss on it before she thrusts his shirt open, shoving it from his shoulders. He lifts his shoulders and she removes it completely, stopping to kiss the faint yellow remains of the bruise on his left shoulder.

"Play fair," Arthur says, reaching for her shirt, a snug-fitting tank top that has been taunting him all night. He pulls it off over her head, exposing her breasts to his hungry gaze. He sits forward and dives into them. Her head falls back and she sighs, running her fingers into his hair, her fingertips stroking his scalp, making his head tingle. He moans into her, sliding his hands down her back, reaching for her skirt.

She is still astride him, so she shifts to one side and he is suddenly over her, his lips on her neck, his hands sliding her skirt down. He runs his hands back up her smooth thighs, and she squirms slightly, enjoying the sensation.

Gwen's hands reach for Arthur's belt. "Play fair," she echoes him, undoing the belt and opening his trousers. He chuckles and helps remove them.

"Hmm. Still not even," she says, looking at him. "Your pants are much bigger than mine," she smiles wickedly at him.

His eyes are dark with desire as he admires the black thong she is wearing. "I don't think I'd fit in those," he counters. She laughs, and he descends onto her again, reaching for them.

"You, too, mister," she says, and yanks his underwear off.

Growling with passion, he returns to her and slides into her, taking her quite by surprise. "Oh!" she exclaims, as he moves in and out several times, not fast, then withdraws completely.

_He's just toying with me, then,_ she thinks. _Two can play that game._ She reaches down for him, finding his member slightly sticky, but still rock hard. She squeezes, just hard enough, and he groans, returning his lips to her breasts, alternating nibbles and bites with licks and soft kisses, his hand descending between her legs to pleasure her with his fingers. She whimpers at his touch and he smiles against her breasts.

Gwen summons her willpower and pulls away from Arthur. He is driving her absolutely wild with desire, but she has some tormenting of her own to do. She creeps downward, taking him in her mouth.

He falls back onto the bed. "Ohhh…" he sighs, his voice raspy. She applies her teeth lightly at the base, running them very gently along the length, then swirls her tongue around the tip. Arthur's body jerks, and she smiles. Gwen drops her head again, taking his entire length into her mouth and slowly, very slowly, slides her mouth up his length, holding him tightly between her lips the entire time.

"Oh, my God," Arthur croaks, impressed. _She needs to stop that or I'm going to lose it._

He reaches down for her and gently pulls her back up to him. "You are pure evil," he grins into her neck. She laughs loudly, and he rolls her onto her back once again.

Arthur crawls between her legs, kneeling there. He lifts her legs and rests them against his chest, her feet at his shoulders, and he lunges into her, holding her hips.

"Arthur…" she sighs, hands grasping absently. She realizes that she can reach his hips with her hands and she holds tight.

_I want to kiss her,_ Arthur realizes, watching her full, moist lips, parted slightly. He unconsciously speeds up his rhythm. _Is she flexible enough? _He leans forward slowly, and Gwen's eyes open and lock onto his. He keeps pushing gently forward, still thrusting, seeing how far he can bend her. Finally able to reach her lips, he kisses her, practically folding her in half in the process.

Gwen moans into his kiss, greedy for his lips on hers.

Easing back, Arthur slides his hands down across her breasts in a gentle caress before slowly sliding them to grasp her hips. She arches involuntarily, supported by his hands. He turns his head and runs his tongue along the arch of her foot. He kisses her toes and then moves her legs back down on either side of him.

Arthur leans forward again, close to finishing. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to hold on, but then he hears Gwen's breathing. It is rushed, heavy, and she begins to moan. He lets go of the reins and releases into her, pounding fiercely, growling once again. Gwen cries out and digs her nails into his shoulders, finding her own release.

He rolls them to their sides, facing each other. Once their breathing returns to normal, he kisses her, saying, "You're very flexible."

"Apparently so," she laughs, nuzzling his neck with her nose. "And you're very… creative," she adds. Now it is his turn to laugh. He squeezes her tightly, relishing the feel of her.

"You always feel so good in my arms," he tells her.

"I fit perfectly, don't I?" she wriggles slightly, snuggling in.

"Absolutely," Arthur says with a yawn. He is spent and exhausted. "I love you, Guinevere."

"I love you too, Arthur." Her voice is sleepy and her eyes are heavy.

Arthur reaches down and pulls the blankets over them and they both drop off to sleep immediately.


	31. Chapter 31

**DISCLAIMER: For the purposes of my story, I've made the Arthurian legend an obscure one. Please suspend your disbelief for me.**

Gwen is sorting through boxes. Arthur left for work an hour and a half ago, with much whining and carrying on about not wanting to leave. Gwen laughed at him and pushed him out the door, but she was not looking forward to the next two days alone in this new place. "At least I have something to do," she says aloud, deciding to tackle the dreaded kitchen straight away.

_Do whatever you like,_ Arthur had told her. _This is your home now, too, and I want you to be comfortable here._

"All right, then, let's see how much damage I can do." Gwen strolls to the kitchen and begins opening the boxes she put there the previous day.

As she unpacks, she starts making a list. _A trip to the market is definitely in order._

She tackles the refrigerator, opening each takeaway box she finds and throwing away anything that smells suspect or looks unidentifiable. With the fridge now mostly empty, she decides to scrub down the interior as well before heading out to stock up.

"Nosy," Gwen answers the phone. It is early evening and Arthur has just rung.

"Yes," he agrees. "What have you been up to?"

"I tackled your kitchen this afternoon."

"Were you victorious?"

"Of course. I also went to the market. I'm introducing you to a new concept, I've decided."

"What concept would that be?"

"Vegetables."

"_Vegetables,_" he repeats slowly, as if trying out the word for the first time. "Rings a bit of a bell, but I'm not sure I'm familiar." Gwen hears a guffaw come from the background. _Merlin._

"Well, I think your refrigerator actually [_cringed_ when I put some lettuce inside."

Arthur laughs at this, saying, "Be gentle with him. It's his first time."

Gwen laughs now, too, then asks, "Anything happening 'round your way?" she asks.

"Not a blessed thing. We washed the trucks, which is always exciting."

"Mmm."

"Yes. I am trying to track down a building that is slated for demolition, actually. Sometimes they'll let us set fire to one, as practice, before they knock it down."

"That sounds interesting. Practical training."

"It is. If I get it arranged, you can come watch."

"Can I toast marshmallows?"

Arthur laughs again.

"I wish I could be home with you tonight," he tells her.

"I know, I do, too. But I'll be fine. Morgana's bringing over some pizza, so I won't be alone all night at least."

"Leon is making lasagna and garlic bread. It smells really good in here right now."

"Ooo, I'm coming out there."

"Don't tease me, woman."

There is a knock at the door. "Morgana's here." Arthur listens as Gwen opens the door and greets her friend.

_Are you on the phone?_ Morgana's voice in the distance.

_Yes, I'll just be a minute more._

_Take your time._

"Sorry," she says into the phone.

"Not at all. I'll let you go so you can eat. I love you."

"I love you, too."

**SUNDAY**

Gwen looks around the living room, dressing it with her eyes. "Have to find everything first," she says with a sigh. She reaches into a box and lifts some books out.

"Not what I was looking for, but oh well." She looks at the books in her hand, flipping through them. She comes across a book Dr. Gaius had given her on Thursday. She had forgotten about it in the flurry of moving and the surprise party. The book is one of his own, and it looks incredibly old. She handles it with great care, running her fingers along the raised writing on the cover. _Legends of the British Isles._ He has a chapter bookmarked for her, but she opens to the table of contents. _Robin Hood. The Mabinogion. Camelot. Joseph of Arimathea. The Wizard of Lincoln._ Some familiar, some not.

She opens the book at the bookmark. _Camelot._

_Camelot is the home of King Arthur, a legendary British ruler of the late 5__th__ and early 6__th__ centuries,_ Gwen reads. _His existence has been debated by scholars, as there is no historical evidence of him ever having actually lived. __The details of Arthur's story are mainly composed of folklore and legend._

Gwen sits on the couch, curling her legs up beside her. Her eyes do not leave the page.

_King Arthur is most often associated with uniting the kingdoms of Albion, establishing the empire of Great Britain. He is also known for wielding the mythic sword Excalibur, which is said he pulled from a great stone. He was said to have been beloved by his people, often showing no regard for class distinction, knighting worthy commoners and showing disdain for nobility if they abused their power or treated others poorly. Amongst the most controversial of his supposed acts were his elevation of his servant, Merlin, to royal adviser and court wizard and his marriage to Guinevere, who was originally a servant in the castle._

Gwen looks up from the book. Her heart is pounding, her mouth dry. "Bloody hell," she says to the empty room.

She continues reading, not wanting to believe any of it, but finding she cannot deny it.

_Magic banned… Merlin's secret… Guinevere's wisdom… Secret love… Battle… Knights of the Round Table… Betrayal… Banishment… Battle… Excalibur… Wedding… Retribution… Merlin's secret revealed… Battle… Albion…_

It is too much. Gwen squeezes her eyes together, trying to collect her thoughts. _Internet,_ she finally decides, and heads to her laptop.

Arthur calls again that night. "How's it going?"

"I've gotten nothing done today," she tells him.

"Is something wrong?" he notices she sounds a little shaken.

"I am freaking out over here," she admits.

"Why? What happened?"

"Dr. Gaius gave me a book last Thursday. I'll have to show it to you tomorrow. It will blow your mind."

"A _book_ has got you all worked up? What is it about?"

"Us."

"_What?_"

"Well, the 'us' in my dreams. Turns out there is a not-very-well-known legend about a King Arthur who married a serving girl called Guinevere."

"Get. Out."

"I _know!_ Like I said: freaking out over her. I've been looking through this book and surfing the Internet all day."

"And what have you found?"

"We'll talk more about it tomorrow night, but basically the part that pertains to us is that he was a King and she was a servant and they fell in love— before he became king— and he didn't care that she was a servant and was going to marry her anyway and there were a lot of obstacles in their way but they overcame them and eventually got married after like five years of wanting each other and she got to be Queen and they were great rulers and it was a really great love story because of them being from different backgrounds and having to work so hard to get to be together."

"Whoa, take a breath!"

"Sorry."

"Wow."

"Yes."

"Oh yes, this is apparently where the wizard 'Merlin' _originally_ came from. I hadn't realized that."

"Hmm. Wonder if our Merlin knows that."

"I feel pretty dumb, actually, not having heard of this legend before."

"I never have either. Besides, you said it is not well-known."

"Yes, but I work in a _library._"

"That doesn't mean you've read every book there."

"True. And Vivian's certainly no rocket scientist, and she works there."

"Not a good comparison, love."

Gwen laughs. "I appreciate that."

The alarm rings in the firehouse. Gwen jerks the phone away from her ear it is so loud.

"Gotta go. Love you." He says quickly and hangs up.

"Love you, too," she whispers, staring at the dead phone.

Later that night: _Tanker truck overturned on motorway. Piece of cake._ Gwen turns off the light and rolls over, burying her face in Arthur's pillow. She inhales, letting his scent overtake her as she drifts off to sleep.

**MONDAY**

Arthur strolls into the library. Elana is behind the desk, and she looks up when he approaches the desk. He has finished his book and hands it to her.

"Hello, Arthur," she says, taking the book.

"Elana," he smiles.

"She's in her office," Elana tells him before he can ask. "You can go on back if you like."

Arthur's eyebrows go up. "Oh, great, thanks."

"It's—"

"I know where it is," he smiles and walks back.

_How does he know where her office is?_ Elana wonders, but decides she probably doesn't want to know.

The door is open, and Arthur peeks in. Gwen is studying her computer screen, loaded fork in mid-air. He knocks.

"Come in," she says, not looking up. He walks silently in, wondering how long it'll take her to notice him. He sits in the chair opposite her and watches her. _She must be doing more research._

"Find out anything interesting?" he asks suddenly, and she jumps.

"Oh! Arthur, hi!" she puts her fork down and comes around the desk, where he grabs her and pulls her into his lap.

"I missed you," he says into her neck. _I wish her hair was down. I miss its smell,_ he thinks, but decides to plant a few kisses on the delicate skin there while he's in the area.

"Mmm, I missed you, too," she says, laying her cheek on top of his head and briefly closing her eyes. Pulling her further down into his lap, he kisses her softly, tasting her lips with his own.

"You smell like smoke," she tells him, leaning back to look into his eyes.

"Didn't get a chance to shower yet. It's the first on my list of Things To Do When I Get Home."

"I've left you some lunch," she tells him.

"How very domestic of you, thank you," he smiles and grants her another kiss. "Oh, I need a new book. I finished _Pi._"

"Did you like it?" she asks, extracting herself from his lap.

"Yes, it was very good. Started out a bit slow, but the middle bit was great." He stands also, and she takes his hand and leads him back out to the shelves to find him a new book.

Shortly after five, Gwen comes in the door. Arthur is sitting on the sofa, flipping through Gaius' book. He looks up at her and says, "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm convinced. Looks as though we've traveled this road before."

She takes her shoes off and puts them on the mat. _They look so small next to his._

"That's what we're being led to believe, anyway," she says, leaning over to kiss him hello. "Stop looking down my blouse," she accuses him before she stands.

He laughs. "Well, it's not like I don't know what you keep in there." She shoves his head playfully and goes back to their room to change clothes.

After dinner, they sit and look at Gaius' book and some other things Gwen has printed out.

Holding the book between them, Gwen points, leaning in close. "See, right there. 'Guinevere, a servant in the castle, was Arthur's only true love.' I don't know what to make of this, Arthur." She looks at him, so close. _He smells much better now._

Arthur leans in as well scanning the page, using the book as an excuse to snuggle closer to her. "Guinevere, you are far too logical."

"They're just _legends, _Arthur. No proof of any actual history here."

"True. But there are far too many coincidences to dismiss it entirely."

"You're right. And it really is a beautiful tale."

He takes the book, carefully paging, looking for something. "Did I read that she betrayed him at some point, though?" He furrows his brows.

"There are a couple different versions of that. The one I saw the most said that she was not acting of her own free will at the time, and that she was later cleared of any blame or wrongdoing. Another claims it was all her, but he forgives her nevertheless. A third claims that not only was it all her, but she actually leaves him, and it crushes him."

"Well, that last one sucks."

"That's the…" she looks at a page, "…French version."

"Ah. I saw that she did betray him, but I didn't get to what she exactly did."

Gwen leans over and reaches for a stack of papers on the table. Arthur watches her, then gently reaches forward, unfastening the clip holding her hair up. He puts it on a side table, then plunges his fingers into her hair, his hand reaching up to cradle the back of her head at her nape, gently working her hair loose.

_Feels so good,_ Gwen thinks, straightening back up onto the couch. His hand still in her hair, he pulls her lips to his and kisses them before nuzzling her neck, burying his face in her curls.

"You always smell amazing," he says into her neck. "And it's the strongest in your hair." He places a few kisses on her neck, then says, "If we could bottle this, we could make millions."

Gwen laughs softly, gently pulling back. "I don't think we would, because you'd be the only one buying." _What was I doing again? Oh yes._

"Okay." She shakes her head slightly, attempting to clear the distraction he was causing. He reaches down and pulls her legs across his lap, his thumbs caressing the back of one of her knees as she scans through the printouts, looking for the information he requested.

"Ah, here it is. Apparently she was caught kissing one of Arthur's most trusted knights."

"Oh." He scowls.

"The night before their wedding."

"Ooo. Not good."

"No. But according to most sources, she was under some sort of spell or enchantment at the time and if she had been in her right mind, she never would have done. They of course still get married later, though."

"And others say she was guilty?" He leans over and peeks at the pages, resting his head on her breast. _Comfy._

"A few say she was, but he eventually forgives her and marries her anyway."

"And the French version was what? She dumps him?"

"Yep. Runs off with the knight."

"Cold. I think I like the first version best."

"Me, too."

"Does it say which knight? Is it the same one in each?"

"Umm…" she flips through the pages. "Shit. Wow. _Shit._"

"_What?_" he asks. _I don't think I've heard her swear like that before._

"Lancelot. That is the name of the knight."

"_Lanc_elot?" he repeats, emphasizing the "Lance." He sits up again and looks at her.

"Like I said: Shit."

"Indeed."

She looks at him levelly. "Just legends, right?"

"Right."

"Then why is this so upsetting to me?"

"The Lance thing?"

"Like you said: too many coincidences."

He leans over and kisses her softly. "Well, look at it this way. You already had your dealings with Lance. And unless seeing him the other day…" he raises an eyebrow at her with a small smirk. _I know she's not going anywhere._

"Good God, no!" she says, eyes opening wide. Then she narrows them at him, saying, "You know that, you prat."

Arthur laughs, squeezing her to him. "I love you so much, Guinevere," he tells her softly in her ear. His voice, his words, his proximity make her warm all over, the heat is spreading outward from her center, extending to the tips of her fingers and toes.

Reaching up, Gwen cradles his head against her with her hand and closes her eyes, just feeling his presence around her. _Loved. Safe._


	32. Chapter 32

"Guinevere? Are you coming back out?" Arthur calls back. Gwen had gone to use the bathroom. He heard the flush, but she didn't come back out to the living room.

"Nope," she calls back.

_All right, then._ Arthur had been further perusing the book and the other materials Gwen had found. He walks back, book in hand.

Gwen is lying on the bed, now wearing Arthur's t-shirt. She is staring at the ceiling, lost in thought.

"Gwen," he says, "listen."

He reads: "'Guinevere was said to be a very popular queen. Beloved by the commoners for her kindness and gentle common sense, they thought of her as one of her own. She never forgot where she came from and for that they loved her. She won over the nobility with her loyalty and wisdom. She took an active part in council meetings, often speaking her mind, even if it meant disagreeing with her husband.'" He pauses, looking down at her. With a smirk he adds, "Somehow I think that should read 'especially if it meant disagreeing with her husband.'" Gwen finally smiles at this, sitting up.

Arthur continues. "'Not an idle queen, she often accompanied Arthur on journeys and even some quests.' Pretty cool, yes?" He smiles down at her, his eyes full of a love that Gwen can practically feel on her skin.

"And do you know what the best part is?" He asks, sitting beside her.

"What's that?"

"We get to keep finding each other. Over," he kisses her cheek, "and over," he kisses her neck, "and over." He kisses her mouth, soft and longing.

"That is a nice idea," she says against his lips, trying to reconcile her skepticism with the undeniable yet legendary information bombarding her brain.

"Sweet, try not to think too hard about it. Legends. Stories. Strangely coincidental legends, yes, but the more I read, the more I find that the story is really great. So why not go with it, hmm?" He caresses her cheek with his hand. "It doesn't do any harm to believe it. It doesn't do any harm to not believe it."

"We found each other. We love each other. That's what counts, right?" she whispers.

"Right." He strokes her knuckles with his other hand.

"So we may as well embrace it, since it is rather amazing." She looks into his blue eyes.

"Exactly." He moves his other hand to her face, cupping it gently between both his hands.

"Okay."

Arthur leans forward and places his lips to hers, still holding her face softly. Gwen pulls back softly and warns him, "I'm still going to find out as much as I can about this, you know."

Arthur laughs, leaning over her, laying her gently back on the bed. "I do."

"I'm…" she starts, trying to talk between his kisses.

"No more talking," he tells her huskily, silencing her tongue with his own.

He reaches down and places his hand on her thigh, stroking her beautiful skin softly. _I will never get tired of her skin._

She sighs against him, reaching up to touch the side of his neck, returning his caress. His kisses are gentle, worshipful, but in no way lacking in passion. His hand is working its way higher on her thigh, while the other one is twined with her free hand.

Gwen moves her hand from Arthur's neck down to the hem of his shirt, sliding her hand inside, touching his stomach. She feels his muscles jump under her touch and she smiles against his lips. _I love it when that happens,_ she thinks, knowing that her slightest attention can drive him crazy.

Arthur inhales deeply as her hand creeps up his stomach. He leans back and pulls his shirt off. Gwen slides her hands over his shoulders as he leans over her, gazing at her, feeling her soft brown eyes pulling him in.

He continues his slow and gentle torment, intent on making her feel more loved than she ever has been. _I want her to feel how I feel every second I'm with her._ His hand slides up under her shirt, softly caressing. His work-hardened hands feel like they are coated in velvet against her skin.

_He is being so tender,_ Gwen thinks, _I can hardly even… think..._ She lifts her bum and he slides her panties off, absently noting that they are adorned with penguins, and a small snort of a laugh escapes his lips. Gwen smiles, eyes closed, knowing what he's laughing at.

Arthur lifts her shoulders and eases the t-shirt off over her head. He surrounds her in his arms before she can lay back down, kissing her shoulders, her neck, as his hands stroke the skin on her back, running along her spine, feeling the slight muscles beneath her skin.

He lays them back down and kisses her succulent lips one more time before removing the rest of his own clothes.

She watches him, and he notices her looking. "You are beautiful, Arthur. Inside and out," she tells him. "I wouldn't have thought it possible to love someone as much as I love you."

He says nothing, but lies down beside her on the bed, and they face each other. He smiles at her, and her heart aches, not with pain, but with joy. His breathing speeds up.

_Beautiful. I am so fortunate._

Finally, he touches her again, softly, on her stomach. Gwen's eyes flutter closed and her lips part as she rolls onto her back. Arthur kisses her breasts, tongue slowly rolling around each nipple in turn, licking them into stiff nubs.

Her hand is on him, holding softly, stroking tenderly, following his lead. She feels his groan as a hum against her breasts, and one of his hands trails its way downward to disappear into the dark curls between her legs.

As he kisses his way back up her neck to her waiting lips, he positions himself above her and slides slowly into her, where he stays a few seconds, not moving. He only kisses her lips, sucking at their fullness, as he holds himself there.

_Oh…_

Gradually he begins to move within her, intentionally pacing himself, taking his time. _I can do this without losing my mind,_ he tells himself. Prolonging each sensation. Feeling every inch of each other's most intimate parts with each stroke.

He reaches down and caresses her breasts with his hands, watching her face. Her eyes are closed, a slight smile playing on her lips as her head turns to one side, enjoying the sensations he is giving her.

_Touch me._

She brings her hands to cover his at her breasts, encouraging him. Running her hands up his arms, she strokes his chest for a minute before reaching for his face, bringing down to hers, granting him a kiss that burns his soul with its combination of sweetness and desire.

Gwen slides her hands back down and around him, resting her hands on his backside as he continues his steady rhythm. She doesn't push him to go faster. _He won't._ She simply holds him, her fingers and thumbs occasionally caressing his firmness.

_I love you._

Arthur continues to watch her, eyes drifting closed from time to time. He wills them open, wanting to watch her, to see his affect on her. She opens her eyes and sees him watching her. Their eyes are both almost completely black with desire, yet Arthur does not speed his pace. He is getting close, but he is determined.

Her fingers grasp his rear tighter, nails starting to dig in slightly, her breathing coming in gasps. Arthur reaches for her hands, gently prying them from his butt, and he holds her hands in his, fingers intertwined, as she comes closer and closer.

_Closer._

He leans down, resting his weight on their joined hands at either side of her head. Kissing her lips, her ear, then down to her neck where he finds her favorite spot on the side, near her collarbone, lips sucking, tongue stroking the sensitive skin there.

Gwen pushes against his hands, wanting to touch him. He doesn't let go; he wants to maintain their connection this way. Her eyes close again, and he hears soft whimpers start escaping her throat, bringing a satisfied smile to Arthur's lips. He floods into her just as she bucks beneath him, gasping desperately with pleasure.

_I love you._

They lay in bed together, watching the small television in the bedroom.

"Any plans tomorrow?" Gwen asks from the crook of his shoulder.

"Merlin has tickets for the tennis match in the afternoon."

"Sounds fun," she says. _Oh well._

He looks down at her. "Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering. I did take tomorrow afternoon off since I haven't really done any unpacking since I found that blasted book. So I thought I'd try and get caught up some."

"Oh, well, I can cancel with Merlin…"

"Don't you dare."

"What?"

She looks up at him. "You _do_ need to spend time with your friends still, you know."

"But…"

"No. You have tickets. You're going."

He scowls.

"Besides," she leans up on one elbow, looking down at him. She takes his chin and moves his head to look at her. "If you're around tomorrow afternoon, I have a feeling I won't get anything done." She smirks at him.

He can't help but grin at this. "Well, I can't help it if you can't keep your hands off of me."

"Yes, that's exactly it," she rolls her eyes and lays back down, snuggling into him, throwing her leg across him.

"Mmm," he makes a contented noise and rubs her back.

"You are much better than a stuffed bear."

"Certainly hope so!" Arthur laughs.

TUESDAY

Next morning at the library, Dr. Gaius makes a beeline for Gwen when he sees her wandering among the shelves, a pile of books in her arms.

"Gwen," he calls to her.

"Hello, Dr. Gaius! How are you this morning?"

"Excellent as usual, my dear. Did you have a chance to look at that book?"

She sets down the books. "I did. My mind is still reeling. I was all over the Internet all weekend. Got very little unpacking done, thanks to you."

"Sorry about that." He smiles. "Did you have any questions?"

"Yes, actually." She scowls, thinking a minute. "Do you have some time this afternoon? I'm only working until noon today. I'd love it if you would come over for tea."

"That sounds lovely."

"Three o'clock, then? I'll give you the address before you leave. And don't take too many books; Arthur won't be around to help you carry them today," she teases him, scooping up her pile of books again.

Gaius smiles and leaves her to her task.

_I have two and a half hours to get something done around here before Dr. Gaius arrives,_ Gwen thinks, placing her lunch plate in the sink. _Including the dishes,_ she adds, noting the breakfast dishes also present.

She baked while she ate lunch, quickly throwing together some scones to have with tea. Sighing, she runs hot water and washes all the dishes, but leaves them in the rack to air dry.

Her phone blips. _Gee, I wonder who that could be?_ she thinks sarcastically, opening her phone.

_Are you sure you don't want me to come home?_ Gwen smiles and rolls her eyes.

_Give Merlin a big kiss for me_ she texts back, intentionally not answering his question.

A minute later: _I will do no such thing._ She laughs and sets the phone aside.

Gwen actually gets a lot accomplished during the short time she has. She empties several of the boxes in the living room and collapses them for recycling. _I'll have Arthur take those down to the bin later._ She looks around the room and decides that she will rearrange the furniture next opportunity she has.

At two forty-five, she turns the kettle on, assuming Gaius will be punctual. She is not disappointed when she hears his knock. Right on time.

"So why isn't this legend more well-known? It's fascinating." Gwen asks. Gaius has been talking with her for over an hour now.

"Not sure about that. I guess the magic and mystery of Merlin and his powers kind of grew into a legend all its own, and Arthur and Guinevere's story fell to the wayside. It is a pity, because it is a beautiful story. And if he was the king the legends say, it really is a shame that it hasn't gotten the attention it deserves."

The door opens, and Arthur and Merlin walk in, slightly sweaty but laughing. It is a warm day, and they've been outside for the past several hours. They stop short seeing that Gwen has a guest.

"Oh! Dr. Gaius, I wasn't expecting to see you here," Arthur says, walking forward to shake the older man's hand. "This is my friend—"

"Merlin!" Gaius exclaims, "Good to see you!" He stands and hugs the young man.

"Uncle Henry, it's been a long time!" Merlin laughs, returning the hug.

"You two are related?" Arthur asks.

"Yes, he's my great-uncle," Merlin says casually. Arthur looks at Gwen. She shrugs.

"I assume Guinevere's been grilling you for information all afternoon?" Arthur asks.

"Just since three," he chuckles, sitting again.

"And?"

"And I meant what I said about you two being destined to be together. Who knows how many times the two of you have met before now, and who knows how many times you'll meet again in the future. It sounds ridiculous, I know, but it is one of the lesser-known aspects of life. Great love, _truly_ great love will keep finding its way, regardless of the circumstances. We don't even know if King Arthur and Queen Guinevere was the first incarnation. No one can say."

"So how is it that you know so much about this?" Arthur asks, joining them at the table. Merlin sits as well, stealing a sideways glance at Gaius as he does so.

"Because I am involved as well."

"How so?" Gwen asks.

Gaius opens the book and quickly finds the passage he seeks. He slides the book around to Gwen, pointing.

"'King Arthur was said to have truly trusted very few in his life. Among them were Guinevere, Merlin, and the court physician, Gaius. There were also four of his knights to whom he was particularly close, often sent on special assignments for him or accompanying him on quests.' I think of myself as a 'keeper of the legend.' I know how it sounds, but I've been waiting a long time for you two to find one another."

"This is getting too weird," Arthur says. He turns on Merlin. "And how much do _you_ know, my quiet friend?"

"Enough," Merlin says noncommittally.

"And you've said nothing why?"

"I didn't want to freak you out?" Merlin attempts, hoping there are no follow-ups.

Gaius speaks up again. "Arthur. All you need to know is that you two finding each other is a good thing. A very, very good thing. It means that the legend can continue. Another long wait has ended, and all signs point to the two of you having a long and happy life together. No one disapproves of you," he looks at Gwen, and she knows he is referring to Prince Arthur falling in love with her, much to his father's disappointment and disapproval, "and no one will come between you."

Arthur looks at Gwen, and asks, "Feel better, love?"

"Yes, I think so. You?"

"I was always fine with it," he says, but his eyes indicate otherwise.

"Oh really?" she challenges him.

"Okay, maybe I got a _little_ worried about the Lancelot thing," he admits, making Merlin laugh.

"Arthur, you have nothing to worry about," Merlin says. _Bugger. I shouldn't have said anything. Now he's going to start asking questions._

"Well, if you two will excuse me, I must be going," Gaius says, standing. Gwen picks up the book and hands it to him.

"No. I want you two to have it. Please," Gaius tells her. "Call it an engagement present."

"Thank you, Gaius," she says, holding the book to her chest. She sets it down and gives him a hug.

"Arthur, cherish her," Gaius clasps Arthur's hand warmly between both of his.

"My pleasure, sir," he says.

"Merlin, do you need a lift home?" Gaius asks.

"No, I have a car, but I'll walk out with you, Uncle Henry." The two men leave.

Outside the door, Merlin says, "Took them long enough this time."

"Yes, I couldn't believe it when I got your phone call."

"This one will work out nicely. And it will definitely be interesting. She's got that original feistiness," Merlin chuckles.

"In spades," Gaius agrees.


	33. Chapter 33

"We should pick a wedding date," Arthur tells her over dinner. Gwen has made them homemade fish and chips.

"Got anything in mind?" she asks, actually surprised that he brought it up before herself.

"Well, we could elope this weekend if that's what you want," he says, taking a bite of fish. "But somehow I don't think your father would be too keen on that."

"Nor Morgana."

"Ah yes, her as well. Would October be too soon?"

"_This_ October?" _I appreciate his eagerness, but clearly he knows nothing about planning a wedding._ "Arthur, we have to see if the church is available, find a hall, flowers, food, cake, not to mention that I have to find a _dress_…"

"Guinevere," he interrupts her. "My father called me this morning. He's offered the house for the wedding and reception. Leah has offered to cook everything. Don't worry; she will have plenty of help, trust me. So if that's agreeable to you, that's three things to cross off the list. Four, if she does the cake as well."

Gwen stares at him. _Seriously? _"Seriously?"

"Yes. I don't know what you did to him, but Father just loves you. Not that I can blame him."

She pictures an autumn wedding in the garden, yellow and orange leaves gently falling, sunlight filtered through the treetops, Arthur and Merlin and Elliot all handsome in their morning suits.

"I think that would be lovely," she snaps out of her daydream to look at him. "I'd better check with my father, though. He might feel as though he's been pushed aside."

"Of course, go right ahead," he says.

Gwen wanders away to call her father and Arthur smiles down at his plate. _I'm going to get fat eating her cooking._

After several minutes, Arthur begins to feel as though he's being watched. He put his fork down and slowly turns around in his seat. _Uh oh._

"You…" Gwen says, glowering at him. "You… _men!_" she says, as if 'men' was a curse word.

Arthur feigns innocence.

"Your father already spoke with my father! They've got the whole thing practically planned already! And you knew all about this! I will not have my wedding hijacked by a trio of..." she stops, scowling, searching for the correct word. "…NEANDERTHALS!"

"Guinevere…" he starts.

"Don't 'Guinevere' me. It's not going to work this time. Honestly, I cannot take my eyes off of any of you for a minute, can I? I suppose Elliot has seen the florist already?" She puts her hands on her hips and glowers at him.

"Gwen." He stands, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Nothing's set in stone. I promise. Yes, they're a little over-ambitious. Yes, I did know that they talked already, and I should have said, but you scurried away before I got the chance."

He runs his hands down her arms and takes her hands. "They're behaving like a couple of schoolboys, they're so excited. But I told them both that you would have the absolute last word about everything. I threatened the wrath of Morgana to be visited down upon them and everything. Sobered your father up right quick, that."

Gwen cannot help but laugh. "He does get a little indulgent when it comes to me," she admits.

"Of course he does. I don't blame him." He strokes the backs of her hands with his thumbs. Leaning down, he kisses her. "So pick a date, then."

Sighing, she looks at the calendar in her phone. "October 20," she finally says.

"Done."

"So that gives us just over two months."

"Not a problem."

"Hope it wont't be." She leans up and kisses him, intending it to be a quick kiss. Arthur has other ideas and pulls her into his embrace, kissing her ardently, hands caressing her back, one hand roving down to her rear for a squeeze.

"Arthur," she warns him, smiling, "I'd like to finish my dinner."

He sighs. "If you must." They sit and she picks up her fork.

THURSDAY

"Tonight, Morgana? I don't know..." Gwen says into the phone.

"Gwen, what's the problem? Arthur's at work, right?"

"Yes, but..."

"So come _on._"

Gwen hesitates.

"Look. He wants to see you. He _needs_ to see you. Surely you realize this."

"Of course. But..."

Morgana sighs. "If Arthur calls, just tell him you're shopping with me."

"That could work, I guess..."

"So put your shoes on and drive that little fanny of yours out here."

"_Fine._"

FRIDAY

Arthur enters the library and sees an unfamiliar face behind the counter. No sign of Gwen, so he walks up to the desk.

"Hello, can I help you?" the woman says. She is tall, cute, with thick brown hair, large blue eyes, and a shallow dimple in her chin.

Arthur blinks, a little surprised at the American accent coming out of her mouth. "Yes, I'm looking for Gwen. Is she free?"

"I believe she's out in the main stacks somewhere." She pauses, contemplating him for a moment. "Are you... Arthur?"

"Um, yes. Forgive me, but you seem to have me at a disadvantage," he says, puzzled.

"We haven't met, don't worry. I just got back from a vacation back home. I'm Autumn." She holds out her hand.

_'Vacation.' Definitely American, _he thinks as she shakes her hand. "Pleased to meet you. Are you another summer worker?"

"Nope, I'm here all the time. Well, except for the past few weeks," she corrects herself, laughing.

"Well, it was very nice meeting you."

"Yes, you too. Go find Gwen." She smiles at him as he walks away. _Lucky girl._

He passes the information desk, waving at the sweet little old lady volunteers working there. They smile warmly and wave back at him.

Looking down each aisle, he spots her in the last aisle, near the back. _Aha._

She is facing away from him, so he creeps up behind her, wraps his arms around her waist, and whispers into her ear, "What do you say we go back to your office for a little 'special treatment?'" He kisses her neck.

Gwen laughs, clamping her hand over her mouth, and turns in his arms. "You know I can't do that. Not during business hours, anyway."

He grins and kisses her. "It was worth a try. I knew the answer anyway."

"On your way home, then?"

"Actually going to stop by the gym first, I think."

They walk towards the lobby together. "Make sure you get some lunch in there somewhere."

"Yes, dear," he teases her, and she laughs.

SATURDAY

Arthur rolls over, and his arm flops onto an empty mattress. _Damn._ He was hoping for a little affection this morning. Especially when memories of the previous night's activities come flooding back. He listens for any sound. Shower? _No._ Kitchen? _No._ Telly? _No. She wasn't working today, was she?_

He sits up gingerly and checks the calendar in his phone. They spent yesterday evening on the exciting task of putting both their work schedules into their phones. _Not working today. Where is she?_

Arthur knows she can be as quiet as a mouse, so he gets up and carefully pulls on his shorts.

He walks out to the rest of the flat, finding it deserted. He looks down at himself and says, "Sorry, pal."

He sees a note on the table. _Had to run an errand. Back soon. Love, G._

_Errand?_

She returns an hour later, and he is waiting for her in the living room. "Errand?"

She jumps, surprised. She had been looking at her phone when she walked in the room. "Oh! Yes, just an errand to run this morning." She walks over and kisses him hello, and he briefly forgets his puzzlement.

"I missed you this morning," he tells her.

"Sorry, I should have mentioned it last night. I hate being away when you're home," she puts her hand on his cheek.

"What was it?" he asks as she sets her purse down. She swipes her phone on for a second, pokes a few things, then sets it down.

"What was what?"

_She's distracted this morning…_ "The errand."

"Oh. That. My father wanted to meet me for breakfast," she says quickly, then walks down the hall without looking at him.

Alone in their bedroom, she heaves a sigh. _Bugger. This is more difficult than I thought it would be._

_I suppose he's entitled to see his daughter alone,_ Arthur thinks, still standing in the living room. _But why am I suspicious? She's not usually that flighty, that's why._ He pushes the name _Lance_ away, refusing to let himself get unnecessarily jealous. _He's in America anyway. Right? Right? You're being insane, man. She went to see her father. Do not let your insecurities get the better of you._

His eyes drift to her phone. _No. Don't even think it._ Then he hears the bathroom door close, and with a muttered, "Damn it," he walks to her phone, picks it up and looks through the text messages. None there but his. Recent calls? Morgana, and a number with no name attached. The toilet flushes and he quickly pokes the _home_ button, turns the screen off, and sets it down exactly where he found it and sits on the couch.

_STOP BEING PARANOID, ARTHUR,_ he practically yells at himself. Then he remembers he poking around on her phone before she set it down.

_Get a grip, woman,_ Gwen tells herself as she walks back to the living room. She curls up in Arthur's lap, resting her head on his shoulder. He brings his arms around her, wondering what she's going to say next.

"What shall we do today?" she finally asks.

"What would you like to do?"

She looks up at him and kisses him. "I would like to rearrange the furniture in here."

Arthur laughs loudly, not expecting that answer.


	34. Chapter 34

SUNDAY

_Is that Gwen's car? _Arthur cranes his head, looking. The traffic light changes and he growls as he hits the accelerator. _She said she was running to the market. That's a café._ He looks in the rear view mirror. _That's her car. I know it is._

He stomps into the firehouse minutes later, looking around. "Paul," he calls. "Paul!"

"What?" the large man looks up.

"Can I borrow your car for a few minutes?" Arthur asks. Merlin looks up, puzzled.

"Um, yeah, sure, Chief. Your car in the shop?"

"No. I, uh… just need to go somewhere and I need to not be driving my car." _Guinevere knows far too much about cars._

"Okaaayyy… here," he hands him the keys.

"Thanks, mate. I'll be back before you know it." He spins around, almost knocking Wayne over in his haste.

"Whoa, there!" Wayne laughs.

"Sorry," Arthur mutters, then snatches Wayne's sunglasses from where they are hanging in the collar of his shirt.

"Hey!"

"I'll bring them back," he calls as he grabs a cap off the head of another firefighter on his way in before he disappears out the door.

Paul looks at Merlin. Merlin jumps up and sprints out the door. "Arthur! I'm coming with!"

"What the bloody hell is going on?" Merlin asks as Arthur drives back towards the café.

"I… I don't know, Merlin. Gwen's been acting… strange."

Merlin arches an eyebrow at him. "Strange?"

Arthur tells him what happened Saturday morning, and now what he's just seen on his way to work.

"Arthur, I'm sure there's a perfectly logical explanation," Merlin reassures him.

"Yes, like what, exactly? _Look._" Arthur has pulled up next to the café. He sees Gwen sitting at a table with someone, their heads close together. He can see Gwen clearly, but her companion's back is to them.

"Could be Morgana," Merlin says, looking.

"Yeah, if Morgana was a rugby player. If I hadn't just bumped into him, I would swear it was Wayne."

"Her brother, then?"

"Her brother has a shaved head."

Merlin looks again. "Oh."

Arthur parks the car, trying to peer into the large windows of the café. _It's definitely a man. Long hair, short beard. Are those leather pants? Seriously?_ "Well, it's not Lance, that's for certain. Lance has short hair."

"Arthur, you didn't seriously think…"

"Well, he _was_ in town recently."

"Yes, and he's back in America now."

"That's what he _said._ A person can _say_ anything they please. I can _say_ that my favorite color is pink and that I like Celine Dion's music, but that doesn't make it so."

"Would you listen to yourself? You are raving. Why don't you just _ask_ her what she's doing?"

"I did, Saturday morning. And I think she lied to me. This morning she told me she was going to the market. We left at the same time, but I had to stop and fill my tank, so she got ahead of me." He looks down. Merlin studies him, not knowing what to say. He sees Gwen in this café with a strange man just the same as Arthur does.

_Betrayal._ The word surfaces in Arthur's brain. He shoves it back, hitting the steering wheel, inadvertently honking the horn.

"Get down!" Arthur shouts at Merlin, who ducks. Arthur turns his head the other way and slumps in the seat.

They wait a few minutes, and Arthur dares a look. Everyone in the café appears to be going about their business again. Then he sees Gwen laugh and touch her companion on the shoulder. Merlin sees this as well, and he speaks before Arthur moves.

"Arthur. Do not get out of this car," Merlin's voice comes quietly, sternly. Arthur looks at Merlin, and he can see the hurt and fear in his friend's face, even shielded behind sunglasses. "I know what it looks like. But jumping to a potentially wrong conclusion could be embarrassing at best, catastrophic at worst."

Arthur slumps. He clenches his jaw, fighting back tears of frustration and hurt.

"You must trust Gwen. I'm sure there is an explanation. There has to be. She wouldn't do this. Couldn't." _Am I trying to convince him or me?_ "We need to go back to work, Arthur. Let it go for now. Tuesday, you'll have a nice chat with Gwen and get this all figured out. Come on. Let's go before she leaves and spots us."

Arthur sighs and starts the car. Work is the last place he wants to go right now, but it probably the best place for him. At least he'll be able to keep himself occupied.

_He's going to be a complete bastard for the next 48 hours,_ Merlin thinks as they drive back to the station.

TUESDAY

"Tonight? Does it have to be tonight?" Gwen says into her phone. She gets up from her desk and closes the door to her office.

"Yes, I know. But… it's just… _Cedric,_ may I speak, please?" She sits.

"Arthur's off work in 45 minutes. That means he's home tonight."

"You _know_ why, I'm not explaining it again."

"Yes, _him_. Yes, I _know_ I'm being ridiculous. But it's just… important to me."

"Right after I'm done here, then. No, I can't leave early today. I'll come up with something. _Yes,_ I promise."

Gwen puts her head down on her desk.

_Get it together, man. You'll simply ask her what's going on. Don't give away that you stalked her. Be calm. Be calm. So, Guinevere, what have you been up to while I've been at work? Been to any good cafés lately? Snogged any scruffy men wearing leather pants lately?_

He paces the floor. He looks at the clock. She should be home soon. His phone beeps, and he picks it up, irritated. _Going to be a little late tonight. Will bring dinner home._

He flops down onto the sofa. He stands up. He walks to the kitchen. He opens the fridge, then closes it. He goes to the bathroom. He walks into the bedroom. That fireman bear is staring at him with its shiny black accusatory eyes.

_That's it._

Arthur drives toward the library. It's completely dark inside. _Bloody hell._ He stops the car, trying to collect his thoughts. _Morgana. I need answers, and surely she'll have some for me. She'd better have._

He pulls out and points his car toward Morgana's. _What. The. Hell._ Halfway there, he sees Gwen's car parked outside an unmarked building. Without thinking, he parks his car, slams the door and storms inside.

"Excuse me, sir, you can't go back there," a woman says, standing. Arthur ignores her, stalking through the door.

He stomps into the room, eyes blazing, seeing nothing around him, looking only for Guinevere. He keeps moving, and skids to a stop. She is in a far corner, standing in a slip with the mysterious man from the café close by, his hands on her hips.

"What the hell is going on here?" he demands.

Gwen turns. "Arthur?"


	35. Chapter 35

Arthur steps quickly forward, fists clenched, preparing to pull her away from him and pound this interloper into jelly.

"Arthur, stop!" she says, stepping in front of the man. She faces Arthur, hands on her hips, and he stops, her tone taking him by surprise. She is stern. No hastily made denials, no, "It's not what it looks like." She simply stops him, and it throws him off balance momentarily.

"Step away from her, please." Arthur's voice is low and quiet, but menacing. The man does so, holding his hands up. When he turns Arthur sees a long tape measure draped around his neck. He also notices the man is wearing a metallic shirt with his leather pants, and boots with flames embroidered on them. _What the…_

"Arthur, nothing is going on," she tells him.

"He had his hands all over you!" he protests angrily.

They stand and regard one another for a few moments. Arthur squeezes his eyes shut, breathing heavily. The image of that man's hands on her body floats into his mind, and he pushes it down, in an effort to check his own rage.

When he opens his eyes, he almost can see her clearly again. She doesn't look ashamed. She doesn't look guilty. That troubles him. She looks… _annoyed._ That troubles him even more.

Guinevere waits, watching as the anger on Arthur's face melts into confusion. "Arthur, look around, please. What do you see?"

Arthur looks, and finally _sees._ Mannequins. Bolts of fabric. Lacy things. Tiaras. _Oh, crap._

"You're getting a dress made?" he asks quietly.

"Yes." She turns to the other man. "Cedric, can you give us a moment, please?"

"Of course, darling. Take as long as you need." He pats her hand and tiptoes past Arthur.

_Holy hell, he's gay._ Arthur's head drops.

"Guinevere, I…"

"Arthur, I…"

They stop, having both started at the same time.

Finally Arthur speaks. "Why all the secrecy?" His voice is inscrutable; Gwen can't tell how he's feeling and it worries her.

"I'm sorry, Arthur. I truly am." Her voice trembles slightly. She swallows and continues. "If I had known it would have come to this, I would have been up front with you. It's just…"

"What?" He slowly starts walking towards her, his face still a mask.

"You're going to think me foolish." She sits on a padded bench.

"Go on."

"I guess I'm overly superstitious about the dress."

"Whatever for?" he says, exasperated. But he sits next to her.

"Well, um, I didn't tell you this, but I've looked at wedding dresses before."

"You and Lance were engaged?" He looks at her, surprised.

"No. But I thought he was going to propose at one point. Before I found out I was pregnant, obviously. I was… looking at dresses at a shop and he caught me. He thought it was sweet at the time, but then when everything went to hell so soon after, well…"

"You didn't want to take any chances," he says, looking down at his hands.

"Arthur, please understand that I did not intend to deceive you or hurt you or make you worry."

"But you did. I was worried. I was suspicious. I knew something was up Saturday morning."

"I'm not a very good liar, am I?"

"Not really. I, uh, also saw you on Sunday. At the café."

She looks at him, shocked. "You _followed_ me?"

"Not exactly. You should have picked a meeting place that wasn't on my route to work. I saw your car."

"Oh."

He put his hands to his face and confesses, "Then I got to the station, borrowed Paul's car, Wayne's sunglasses, and Brian's cap and drove back for another look."

"You did not," she turns to look at him, stunned.

"I did." He is still hiding. "It's a lucky thing Merlin came along or I'd've made quite an embarrassing scene."

"Arthur, really…"

"Well, if you hadn't been sneaking around…"

"I know. I _know._ I'm so sorry. I let my irrational superstition run away with my logic, and I hate myself for it. I'm sorry that I gave you a reason to question my faithfulness." Her voice drops to a hoarse whisper. "So sorry." She sniffs, and Arthur looks over at her to see her cheeks wet with tears, and it breaks his heart.

"You know my… insecurity, Guinevere. I let it take over."

"I helped."

"A little."

"A lot," she argues, her fingers playing with the hem of her slip. "And…"

"There's more?"

"Well, I wanted there to be _something_ over which I would have complete control for this wedding." She looks down at her lap. _I'm such a fool._

"Oh. That." He looks at her again, and any anger left in him melts. "Guinevere, you _are_ in complete control. Me, your father, _my_ father; we are all completely at your mercy, don't you realize that?"

She looks suddenly at him. She can feel the love in his eyes as if it were a caress on her skin. "I suppose I don't."

"Yes, my father offered the house. But that's all it was. An offer. A suggestion. But if you want to get married at Westminster Abbey, the three of us would stop at nothing to make that happen. Even if the queen herself had it reserved that day."

Gwen laughs, a small snort. She reaches for a tissue from a box on a nearby table.

"No, I love the idea of having it all at the house. I just wish…"

"That you had thought of it?"

"That I had been a part of the original conversation."

"Ah. It won't happen again, I promise."

"Thank you."

They sit in silence for a minute, each contemplating the pattern in the rug under their feet.

"Aren't you cold?" Arthur asks, breaking the silence.

She sniffs again, with a small laugh. "Yes."

He puts his arm around her, gently pulling her to him, not sure if she will accept the invitation. She does, melting into him, and he breathes again. He holds her for several minutes, letting her tears wet the shoulder of his shirt. A few slip from his eyes as well.

She looks up at him, and he kisses her forehead.

"Arthur," she says softly, "I know now that what I had with Lance wasn't love. Compared with what we have, it was nothing. _Nothing._ I was overcome by a fear to not let anything spoil what I know will be the happiest moment of my life, and somehow that turned into being overly superstitious about this damn dress. Arthur, every moment I am with you I feel completely loved and cherished." She sits up and takes his hands. "I love how you look at me, how you speak to me. I love how you are so gentle and caring with me, how you make me laugh. I love each smile and caress you give, no matter how small or meaningless it may seem. My heart is full like nothing else I have ever experienced, and I don't wish anything, even my nonsense, to ever cloud something so perfect and beautiful."

Arthur stares at her, eyes wide with wonder. "My God, Guinevere, no one has ever said anything like that to me before. I… ah…" Overcome, he leans over and kisses her, pulling her into his arms again, onto his lap. His hands stroke her back, running along her spine. She holds his head in her hands, holding him to her, her fingers in his soft hair.

"How could I… have been so… worried?" Arthur gasps, kissing down her neck. _I can feel her body far too well through this slip,_ he absently thinks, and remembers where they are. _Oh well._

"Ahem." A voice politely says, interrupting their reconciliation. Gwen pulls away from Arthur, giggling.

"If you're going to go any further, please let me put some plastic down on my velvet upholstery."

"Sorry," Arthur says, not standing up.

"Quite all right," he waves his hand dismissively. "I completely understand how you might see me as a _threat_." he teases.

"Um, yes, sorry about that, too."

"No harm done, no harm done." He steps closer. "Cedric, owner of this little hovel." Arthur shakes the man's extended hand.

"Forgive me for not standing," Arthur says, blushing. Cedric laughs.

"The only thing you need to know, sweetheart, is that I am designing something _fabulous_ for your little dumpling here, and I guarantee it will blow your socks off. Among other things. Not that you need any encouragement, from the looks of things," he grins.

"So. Now you know. Go home so we can get some work done," Gwen shoves him.

He leans over for one more quick kiss, pauses a second, says, "Yes, I think I'm all right now." Before he stands, he leans over to her again, saying quietly into her ear, "I love you so much, Guinevere."

"I love you, too. And I promise I'll make it up to you when I get home," she says and looks into his eyes lovingly.

"Wow. I had better go before I can't again."

Arthur enters their apartment, and is briefly disoriented by the rearranged living room, having forgotten that they had done that. _It really does look better this way._

He looks at his phone, sighs, then calls Merlin.

"You're not calling from jail, are you?" Merlin answers.

"You have an odd habit of not saying 'hello,' do you know that?"

He sighs dramatically. "_Hello._ Well?"

"Merlin, if I was calling from jail, I wouldn't be calling from _my_ phone, would I?"

"So, what happened?"

"We're both idiots, that's what."

"Us we or you two we?"

"Gwen and me we."

"Go on."

Arthur hangs up the phone and looks at it. He has an idea, and he dials another number. He just finishes his last phone call when Gwen gets home. As soon as the door goes _click,_ she drops her keys and her purse and launches herself at Arthur. She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him immediately, fiercely, pushing him backwards until she reaches a place where she can set down the bag of dinner she brought home for them.

He wraps his arms around her, lifting her up, and she brings her legs around him, hanging on, clinging to him.

"I love you, Arthur," she gasps against his lips. Vaguely she is aware of him walking back to the bedroom, his hands grasping at the skirt of her dress, scrunching it upwards, inching his hands under the material.

"I love you— oof!" he staggers into the doorframe, hitting his shoulder on the way into the room. Gwen laughs and he drops them to the bed. She rolls him onto his back. _It always impresses me that she can do that,_ Arthur thinks as she grabs his shirt and yanks it off over his head, pulling him upright in the process. She gets up and turns around so he can undo the zipper on the back of her dress, which she drops to the floor and kicks aside without a second thought. Then she pulls her slip off over her head, tossing it as well. She reaches down and pulls of Arthur's shorts and underwear all at once.

He scoots back onto the bed and watches her remove her cream-colored bra. She leaves her panties on, just to tease him. Pink today, boyleg, lace. He takes a moment to admire them as she climbs back atop him.

Arthur brings his hands around to cup her backside in his hands, stroking the bit of flesh peeking out from under the bottom edge of her knickers. Gwen leans over and kisses him while his hands rove around, just enjoying the feel of her. She kisses her way over to his ear, nibbling, running her tongue along the outer edge of his ear, giving him delicious chills.

He slides his hands into her panties, inching them downwards. She adjusts herself slightly so he can remove them. Following her lead, he flings them across the room using two fingers, as if her knickers were a giant rubber band. Gwen cracks up laughing at this, and falls against his chest.

Arthur seizes this opportunity to roll her over onto her back. He gives her a smoldering look before bending to take a breast in his mouth. As he does so, she reaches down for his erection, encircling it in her small soft hand. She feels him groan against her breast and she holds his head with her free hand.

He reaches down and plunges two fingers into her, exploring her familiar contours as his kisses his way across to her other breast.

"Arthur…" she breathes, "please…"

"Please what, Guinevere?" he teases her. _I want to hear her say it._

"Please… love me, Arthur… I need you… inside me… now… now…" she gasps, arching against him.

_Well, she said 'please.'_ He grins wickedly and scoots himself upward, kneeling between her knees and plunging into her forcefully, making her cry out with pleasure.

She grabs his head and pulls his face to her, clenching his hair in her fists and kissing him passionately. Arthur continues his rhythm, hard and fast, driven by their mutual need.

"Oh…" she cries out, releasing his head and clutching his shoulders. "Oh…"

Arthur lifts a hand from the mattress to stroke her cheek, a sudden tenderness coming over him as he watches her in her throes, squirming with pleasure beneath him.

She turns her face into his hand as she climaxes with a great gasp, eyes flying wide open, black with desire.

Her eyes fix on his and he clutches Gwen's head, gently, and he feels himself flood into her; hears himself shout his release.

Arthur rolls to the side, next to her, pulling her immediately into his arms, holding tightly. She clings to him, wanting to stay there forever.

"I'm sorry I was sneaking around getting a dress made, Arthur," she whispers.

"I'm sorry I turned into a jealous stalker," he whispers back.

They look at each other, and suddenly they both start laughing at how ridiculous they both are.

"We are both so dumb," Gwen says, giggling.

"I know. Good thing we're stuck with each other so we can't inflict our stupidity on anyone else," he laughs.

"I love you so much, Arthur."

"I love you, Guinevere." He pauses. "Guinevere?"

"Yes?"

"What did you bring for dinner? I'm hungry."


	36. Chapter 36

"I never knew room-temperature chicken could taste so good," Arthur says, taking another bite from a leg.

"That's the beauty of fried chicken. Even cold, it's still good."

They are sitting close together on the sofa, a regal spread from KFC arrayed on the table in front of them. Gwen has her feet tucked up, her toes snuggled under Arthur's thigh. She is wearing her favorite t-shirt of his again.

"You know, I have an entire drawer full of t-shirts you can choose from," he teases her.

"Yes, but I like this one. I also have my own pajamas from which I could choose as well…"

"Don't you dare! I mean, unless they're something… interesting," he grins devilishly at her.

She ignores this and says, "Like I actually end up _sleeping_ in anything anyway. I will need to wear more than just your shirt once winter comes or I'll freeze."

"I'll keep you warm," he says suggestively, feeding her a lukewarm chip.

"Only when you're _home,_" she points out. He pouts.

They eat silently for a bit, watching the news.

"Would you be able to take Friday off? And Monday?" he suddenly asks.

"What, _this_ Friday?"

"Yes. And Monday. I want to take you away for a long weekend. Where I can have you all to myself." He gives her a smoldering look, smiling.

She raises an eyebrow. "Well, I don't know, I'll have to see if I'm available," she says coyly. "Wait, don't you have to work Thursday?"

"I can take time off, you know."

"No, I actually didn't know that," she smiles.

"I got it all arranged while I was waiting for you to come home, actually. Can you make sure to have Friday and Monday off, then?"

"I don't see that being a problem. Did you have someplace in mind?" Now she is curious.

"Yes."

"Are you going to tell me?"

"No."

WEDNESDAY

The shower turns on and the slight noise wakes Arthur. Usually a heavy sleeper, his body is learning to listen for Gwen in the mornings so he doesn't miss her before she goes to work.

He rolls over and hugs Gwen's pillow to him, remembering how they had clung to each other all night after making love again, this time gently, reverently, taking their time, with none of the desperate need they had experienced earlier in the evening. He closes his eyes for a moment before he replaces her pillow and swings his feet to the floor.

"Have you taken your ring in for a clean yet?" Arthur asks Gwen, opening the bathroom door.

"Not yet. And good morning," she pokes her head out for a kiss. She ducks back into the shower and continues. "Been too busy sneaking around with unscrupulous fashion designers, you know." Arthur chuckles at this. "Plus, I don't want to have to leave it with them," she admits.

"Will you let me take it today, this morning, while you're at work?" he asks.

"Um…"

"I will go as soon as the shop opens, and I'll bring it to you at the library when it's done. I also want to have it checked over to make sure everything is secure and in good condition." _Among other things._

Gwen sighs. "Okay." She reaches to turn the water off, but hesitates. "Is it safe to come out, or are you having a poo again?"

Arthur barks a loud laugh at this and flushes the toilet as his answer. Gwen laughs and turns the water off.

She steps out, and Arthur is holding her towel for her. She takes it and dries herself while Arthur brushes his teeth, watching her surreptitiously in the mirror, jealous of her towel.

Gwen puts on a flannel dressing gown and reaches for a bottle of moisturizer. She puts her foot up on the edge of the tub, and Arthur intercepts her, siting on the edge of the tub himself. He takes her foot in his lap, and takes the bottle from her.

"I promise I will stay there the whole time and wait for your ring to be finished," he says, rubbing lotion on her leg for her, intentionally reaching up far higher than necessary. She smiles down at him, enjoying his attention.

"If you time it right, we can have lunch when you bring it back to me," she says and offers her other leg.

"Oh, I was _so_ worried something happened!" Autumn exclaims after Gwen has explained to her why she doesn't have her ring on this morning. "You've been acting kind of… odd… lately, and I was afraid…"

"No, everything's fine. And you're right, I was acting oddly. Well, I was being stupid, really." She briefly explains to her friend about what has been going on, and concludes by asking her about Friday and Monday.

"Totally fine. Go, have a great time," Autumn tells her. "Make sure you tell me all about it when you come back, though!'

"Deal. Though I may leave out _some_ details," Gwen laughs.

Twelve seventeen, and Gwen's phone bleeps a text message. _Almost done. Will bring lunch._

Twenty minutes later, Arthur comes strolling into the library. He pats Dr. Gaius on the shoulder as he passes him at the desk, heading straight back to Gwen's office.

"Walks around like he owns the place, now, doesn't he?" Gaius laughs with Autumn.

"My lady, I bring you gourmet delicacies from McDonald's," Arthur announces as he walks through the door.

"And my ring?"

"_And_ your ring." He sets the bag down on her desk and produces a tiny velvet bag from his pocket, which he opens and draws out her ring. She holds out her hand and he puts it back where it belongs.

"Nice," she says, noting its extra sparkle.

"And it's been given a clean bill of health as well," he says, bending to kiss her before he sits.

"I had to guess, sorry," he says as he pulls items from the bag. He's purchased three different sandwiches and a salad.

"Whom are you feeding?" she laughs at all the food.

"I wanted to give you some options," he says.

She selects one of the salads, and Arthur takes a Big Mac.

"Arthur, I was going to ask you…"

"Hmm?"

"Did you want to… help choose your wedding band, or…"

"No. I want you to pick it out," he says, as if he's been thinking about this as well.

Gwen chuckles at this, saying, "Okay, now I have something else to try and keep secret. You don't happen to know what ring size you have, do you?" _I doubt it._

Arthur grins, saying, "I do now. Had them measure me this morning while I was at the jeweler."

THURSDAY

"No, he _still_ won't tell me, the pain." Gwen is on the phone with Morgana, in her office at the library.

"And you have no guesses?" Morgana asks.

"Well, of course I do, but they're probably all wrong. I don't think we're flying anywhere, so that narrows it down a bit. I don't want to guess, though, and get my mind set on where I _think_ we _might_ be going, only to be wrong."

"You may have a point there."

"I think he's enjoying torturing me this way."

"Probably."

"How's Wayne?" Gwen changes the subject.

"Unbelievable. Entertaining. Frustrating. Magnificent."

"Care to elaborate?"

"He's a complete scoundrel, which would be a bad thing if he wasn't so very… _good_ at it. He flirts shamelessly with anything that has breasts. Even when we're out together. Then when we're alone, he treats me like the sun rises and sets on me. He's very… passionate. Attentive. Almost too much so, sometimes," Morgana laughs.

"Yes, Arthur's had days like that," Gwen says, remembering one certain Sunday, and it suddenly feels warmer in the room.

"I don't know if I love him or if I am just infatuated with how he makes me feel. It's very confusing. And exciting."

"Well, you did say you wanted a man that can hold your interest."

"He definitely does that."

"Arthur tells me that he occasionally disappears into a storage closet with his phone…" she ventures, trying to get confirmation about what the lads _think_ is going on inside the closet.

Morgana laughs. "Yes. Um… yes. He does."

_Aha._ "And I assume he's phoning you?"

"Gwen, what are you insinuating? Out with it." Morgana knows full well what Gwen is asking, but is going to make _her_ say it.

"Are you two having phone sex when he's at work?"

"Wow, you went for it. Good for you. Yes. And he's _amazing_ at it. I've gone through more batteries in the past two weeks than—"

"I don't want to know the details, Morg." Gwen cuts her off, laughing.

"You're no fun at all," Morgana teases. "Oop— client is here, gotta run, love. Have a good time at dinner tonight. Try to get that destination out of him."

"I'll try."

"Then let me know _immediately._"

"I _will._ Go do your job."

"You can tell Leon that he owes you a fiver," Gwen says to Arthur as she walks in the door.

"Good work, Holmes," he grins, standing to give her a kiss.

"It really wasn't that difficult." She snuggles against his chest for a moment, then looks up at him. "So. I still need to pack. Can you give me a hint, please? Do I need to pack anything… specific?"

"No. Maybe one nice dress, but mostly casual. Ooo. Pack that red one." _Can I request specific pairs of knickers?_

"That's not very helpful. I guess you get what you get, then. I will bring the red dress, though."

"Guinevere, I honestly don't really care what you wear. You could spend the weekend in that t-shirt of mine if you like. Or wearing nothing at all…"

"Well, if I was going to do that, you could save your money and we could stay home."

"My point is that you look beautiful no matter what you're wearing."

"You may be biased."

"Perhaps. Just go put some things in a suitcase. I'm hungry."

"All right, then." She sighs and walks down the hall to the bedroom.

After a delicious dinner of Chinese food, they return home, and Arthur decides to tell her where they're going.

"You want to know?" he pulls her into his lap on the sofa.

"Yes, I do."

"You're going to have to earn it," he teases her.

"Oh really? What if I'm content to wait until we leave tomorrow?" she asks seriously, calling his bluff.

He raises his eyebrows, not expecting that response. "Oh. Well. I guess, then, you wait."

Gwen laughs at him, and he realizes she was toying with him.

"Oh! You…"

She stops his lips with a kiss, her hand on his jaw. Soft and warm at first, then with increasing intensity, her tongue roving. She presses against him, making him moan into her mouth as she takes his hand and places it on her thigh. He slides it up, under her short skirt, higher, until he reaches her backside.

Gwen sucks his lower lip into her mouth, pulling gently before she releases it to kiss his neck. His hand caresses her rear under her skirt, surreptitiously (or so he thinks) groping to see if he can discern what kind of panties she has on. She smiles against his ear before taking his earlobe into her mouth as he feels around and discovers that she hasn't got any on.

"Guinevere!" he breathes, delighted shock mixing with arousal. She has a split second to chuckle into his ear before he stands up with her in his arms as if she weighs nothing at all. But instead of carrying her back to the bedroom, he sets her on her feet, pulls her shirt off, then his, and loosens his belt.

_What is he— oh!_ Gwen's thought is interrupted as he lifts her up, his hands under her backside, and he kisses her, walking with her until they reach the wall on the far side of the living room. He presses her into the wall, using it for support, and she somehow manages to slip a hand down between them, shoving her skirt out of the way. She pushes her hand down further and frees him from his trousers, fingers teasing.

"Mmm…" Arthur moans into her neck and she guides him into her. He is surprised that she is already wet and ready to receive him, and he throws his head back for a second before tipping his head forward, moving her bra strap off her shoulder with his teeth.

Gwen hangs on to his shoulders, back against the wall, mindless with desire. She has never been taken quite like this before, and the excitement of it is running away with her. She gasps as Arthur kisses her breasts, trying to work one of them free from the cup of her bra. She lets go of his shoulder for a second to help, and once freed, Arthur dives into it, redoubling his thrusts below.

"Arthur…" she breathes, resting her head back against the wall where he has her pinned.

He grunts some kind of response, then cranes his head forward to capture her lips with his own, kissing her fiercely, driving her over the edge. She pulls suddenly away from his mouth and cries out, her own orgasm taking her a bit by surprise, having come on so quickly.

"Oh…" Arthur responds, smiling, also surprised, and as he heads towards his own, Gwen's seems to continue, as she isn't quieting down much at all.

Arthur's climax hits, and by this time he is so amused at Gwen's noisiness he laughs with his release and stills, deep inside her, pressing her against the wall as he stops her cries of pleasure with his lips.

He slowly eases her to the floor, kissing her the whole way down.

"What was so bloody funny?" Gwen asks after some time.

"You. You wouldn't quiet down, and it struck me funny," he chuckles down at her, running his finger along her cheek.

"It just kept… _going._" she says, laughing now as well, adjusting her bra back into place.

"Getting dressed for a reason?" Arthur asks at this.

"If you must know, it was digging into me uncomfortably."

"Sorry."

"I only just now noticed," she says, laughing again and shoving him lightly out of the way.

As they go down the hall to the bedroom, she asks, "So where are we going?"

"The Cotswolds."

"Really?" she stops and looks at him in disbelief. "You were able to get a reservation, in summer, on _that_ short notice?"

"Don't need one," he kisses her. "Father has a place there."


	37. Chapter 37

FRIDAY

Arthur wakes before Guinevere, which is a new experience for him. He turns his head look at her sleeping form and spoons up behind her, wrapping his arm around her. He closes his eyes and Gwen moves, snuggling backward, wriggling her rear slightly into him. His eyes open again when she does this.

_Is she awake?_ he wonders. He listens. _It doesn't seem so, but let's see._

He caresses her stomach softly with his hand and nuzzles her neck. She sighs, but her eyes are still closed. _Up or down?_ he thinks, trying to decide which way to move his hand. _Start with up._ He brings his hand upward, stroking her breast, and kisses her shoulder. He feels her body respond to his touch, and he smiles as he hears her moan slightly. She pushes back against him again and now _his_ body is starting to get ideas.

His hand continues to softly caress her breast while he starts depositing kisses on her neck.

"You make a very interesting alarm clock," she mutters, eyes still closed.

"Try and find my snooze button," he jokes.

Gwen laughs, opening her eyes, saying, "If I did that, you'd be back again in nine minutes anyway. Besides, there's no turning you off now."

He turns her face towards his for a kiss, which she reluctantly gives, wishing she could go brush her teeth first.

"Guinevere…"

"I know, you don't care."

"Right," he says, but he releases her lips and turns his attention back to her neck, knowing she likes that. Gwen reaches back and takes him in her hand, stroking and squeezing him, having found him already hard.

His hand drifts down between her legs, and she shifts slightly to let him have access to her. He touches her gently, fingers sliding, and she sighs as she feels the familiar warmth spreading from her center out.

Arthur nibbles her ear, whispering words of love as he does so; the brush of his warm lips on only adding to her arousal.

Gwen lifts her top leg up, wrapping it back around his legs, and allows him to slide into her. He does so slowly, prolonging the sensation as his fingers continue stroking her from the front.

"Oh…" she breathes, closing her eyes, enjoying Arthur's early morning assault. He is still moving slowly, leisurely, groaning occasionally, his lips trailing down the side of her neck.

"Arthur… fas…" she begins, but trails off, breathless.

"Hmm?" he asks into her neck. _Faster, perhaps?_ He smiles.

"Faster…" she manages. He obliges, increasing his speed and intensity.

"Better?" he grunts.

"Don't stop," she gasps.

"I… love it when… you tell me… what to do…" he manages.

She says nothing, but grabs his rear and presses her head back against him. A minute later, a series of gasps signals her climax, followed immediately by his as he grabs her around the waist tightly, sending a prolonged groan into her neck.

He holds her for several minutes, and they lay together, just enjoying one another.

"That's a good way to wake up in the morning," he says finally, kissing her shoulder again and gently pulling himself away. Gwen snuggles back down into the blankets for another minute, looking forward to their trip.

She hears the shower turn on, sighs, and gets up. _I'm entering dangerous ground,_ she thinks as she opens the bathroom door.

"Care to join me?" Arthur's suggestive voice comes from behind the shower curtain.

_Yep, I knew it._ "No," she says simply, smiling, putting toothpaste on her brush.

"No?" he feigns hurt, but she can hear the smile in his voice.

She spits into the sink. "If I do, you'll just start getting ideas."

"I always have ideas," he tells her.

"Exactly my point," she laughs.

Arthur sighs theatrically. Then he hears the door close. "Gwen?" He pokes his head out. She's gone. _Well._

When he emerges from the bathroom, he hears her in the kitchen and smells food. _Breakfast,_ he thinks, and his stomach growls. Once dressed, he heads out and finds her setting a plate down for him. She bends and gives him a kiss, and he pulls her into his lap, where he kisses her thoroughly, his hands wandering a bit.

She sighs and leans her forehead against his. "Eat your breakfast, love," she says, kisses him again, and untangles herself from his lap to go shower.

"I'd like to stop at the library for a minute before we go, is that all right?" she asks him as they are preparing to leave.

"Um, sure. Why, though"

"I left a book there that I was intending to bring."

He raises an eyebrow at her and says, "Do you really expect to have time to read?"

"You never know," she laughs. "I usually wake up before you, I could read then."

Arthur picks up a book lying on a nearby table. "I need a new one anyway, I've finished this one."

Gwen sticks her tongue out at him and they head out the door.

The library isn't actually open yet when they arrive, but Vivian is behind the desk when they walk in.

"I wasn't expecting to see you today, Gwen," she says, then adds, "Hello, Arthur," when she sees he is with her.

"Just stopping in for a minute, Viv," Gwen tells her.

Arthur waves vaguely and heads into the shelves while Gwen takes his book and hands it to Vivian on her way to her office.

Vivian scowls. _I cannot accept this. He ignores me and I cannot handle it. Unless… yes, that must be it. He's in denial. He's avoiding me because he's denying his attraction to me._ She smirks. _Let's get this sorted out, then._

She checks that Gwen is in her office, then follows Arthur, unbuttoning a couple buttons on her blouse as she goes, adjusting her breasts for maximum lift, and hitching her skirt up a little as she goes.

She finds him studying a row of books on a shelf. She watches him. _He is unbelievably gorgeous. She doesn't deserve him. He deserves to be with someone as beautiful as he his. Like me._ As Arthur selects a book and reads the back, Vivian poses at the end of the aisle and says, "Is there anything I can _do_ for you?"

Not looking up, he says, "No thanks."

Undeterred, she saunters forward, standing close to him so he cannot avoid her. "Come now, Arthur, why so mean?"

"Vivian…" he starts, and she comes closer, facing him, making him turn so his back is against the shelf.

"I know your game, Artie. The way you are so _determined_ to avoid me only tells me that you are just _denying_ your attraction to me."

"Um…"

She presses herself against him. He stands perfectly upright and still, his arms bent upwards at the elbows, raising his hands even with his shoulders.

"Tell me you wouldn't rather have this," she says seductively, thrusting her chest against his.

Arthur sighs. He looks down into her big blue eyes and places his hands on her shoulders. "Vivian," he begins.

_Aha, I've got him,_ she thinks, and looks at him coquettishly.

"The only way I could be _less_ attracted to you is if you were a man." With that, Arthur straightens his arms, pushing her away from him.

He picks up his book and strides back to the lobby, to Gwen's office, leaving Vivian there, fuming.

He finds Gwen in her office, sitting at her desk.

"What are you doing? Let's go," he says hurriedly. _I want to get out of here without running into her again._

"Just setting an 'Out of Office' message on my email," she says. He stands there fidgeting, and she notices.

"What's wrong?" She stands.

"Um…" _should I tell her?_ "…it's just… Vivian."

"What did she do?" Gwen's eyes narrow.

"She kind of… tried to throw herself at me."

"I can't believe her!"

"It's all right, I handled it."

"It is _not_ all right! My God, how _stupid_ is she?"

"I would say 'very.'"

"I'm serious. She's here for a work-study program through her university. _I_ am responsible for her evaluation. And believe me, she's going to get evaluated all right."

Arthur cannot help but chuckle as Gwen stomps past him, dragging him with her. She pulls her office door closed and locks it, betting on Vivian being a vindictive sort and so she's not going to give her any opportunities.

Vivian is sitting behind the desk, studying a flyer as if it were the Shroud of Turin.

Gwen checks out Arthur's book, hands it to him, then walks over to Vivian. She leans in very close, and says in a low voice, "You do realize that I have complete control over whatever miserable future you may have, do you not?"

Vivian nods, looking at the desk. She looks like she may vomit.

"Then keep your tits in your shirt and your hands _off._"

Gwen straightens up, smiles warmly at Arthur, and says, "Shall we go, love?"

As they walk out the door, Gwen sees Vivian's reflection in the glass doors, hastily buttoning her shirt back up.

"What a bitch," she says once they are outside. Arthur can contain himself no longer and cracks up laughing.

They had just gotten to the motorway when Gwen's phone rings. She looks at it, expecting Morgana. "Elliot," she says, surprised. "Been trying to get a hold of him for weeks."

She answers the phone. "I didn't know you were aware that there was a nine _a.m._"

She laughs. "Well that explains it." She looks at Arthur and whispers, "He hasn't been to bed yet." Arthur laughs and shakes his head.

"Have you talked to Dad?"

"Oh, he did. Good. So I get to tell you myself, then. Arthur and I are getting married."

_Wow, she really hasn't spoken to him in a few weeks,_ Arthur thinks.

"Thank you, Elly. Did he tell you…"

"So he did. Yes, we know it's soon. But I thought you said…"

"Of course I'm holding you to it. Just remember, brother dear, _you_ are the impulsive one in the family, not me."

A car horn honks nearby. "No, I'm not at work. No, I'm _not_ driving, Arthur is. We're going out of town for the weekend."

"Um, yes, one second. I'll put you on speaker."

"—kay, I'll wait." Elliot's voice comes out of the phone.

"Good morning, Elliot," Arthur says. _Here it comes again,_ he thinks.

"Arthur, how are you?"

"I'm fantastic, thanks. I presume you have something you'd like to say to me? Something along the lines of 'If you hurt my sister I'll have your soft parts in a vise,' perhaps?"

Gwen laughs, and Elliot cannot help but laugh as well. "Yes, something like that. I take it I'm not the first, then?"

"Correct. I've gotten it from your father, Morgana, _and_ Dr. Gaius."

"Who?"

"A friend of mine. He's a very nice elderly gentleman who frequents the library," Gwen explains. "If you'd deign to set foot in there once or twice, perhaps you'd get to meet him."

"Sure, next time I'm in town, I'll pop in," he says dismissively.

"I've heard that before," Gwen rolls her eyes.

"Thank you for your concern, Elliot, and I assure you that I will treat your sister like a queen, since she deserves nothing less." He smiles at her.

"Well, I don't know if you need go _that_ far…" Elliot says.

"Shut it, you, or you won't get to be in the wedding," Gwen interrupts him.

"Oh, no, how ever shall I cope without getting to wear an uncomfortable suit and having dance with… whoever is on your side," he says sarcastically.

Gwen is laughing, and says, "Freya."

"_Splendid._ My cousin. Just _smashing."_

"Oh, cheer up, Elliot, there will be other birds there to choose from. Won't there?" Arthur says, also laughing. The last bit was pointed at Gwen.

"Oh, probably. Wait, when did this get to be about _you?_" she asks.

Elliot yawns, clearly exhausted from his night of revelry. "It's always about me, don't you remember?"

Gwen snorts. "Go to bed."

"Ah, now she's talking sense," he says. "Have a good weekend, Gwenny. Love you."

"Love you, too, El. Get some sleep." She hangs up the phone.

"You're sure you want him in the wedding party?" Gwen asks Arthur.

"Yes. He's your brother. He should be there."

"Because you could have Leon or Wayne, or…"

"Well, I still could, but you want to keep it small."

"I know. Merlin, Elliot, Morgana, and Freya. How are Merlin and Freya, by the way? I haven't talked to her in a bit."

"They've gone out a few times. He really likes her, I know that. I don't think they've… um… _you know…_ yet, not that it's any of our business."

She chuckles at his discomfort discussing his friend's sex life. "No, what? They haven't… seen a film? Haven't baked a cake? Gone for a bike ride?"

Arthur scowls at Gwen's teasing, and raises an eyebrow at her while she laughs.

"It would be lovely if it works out with them. Then he'd be family," Gwen says.

"Oh, he already is," Arthur says casually.

They drive in comfortable silence for a bit, Gwen's hand resting on Arthur's thigh as he drives.

"Do you have your iPod along?" Arthur asks.

"Yes, I do," she reaches down and withdraws it from her purse.

"There's a cord inside the center console," he tells her. She digs and finds it, plugging it in.

"May as well get this over with," she mutters, and pokes and dials around until she finds what she's looking for.

The music starts and Arthur gives her a sideways look. "Is this the David Hasselhoff song?"

"Hey, I cut right to the chase. I know that's what you were looking for, right?"

He smiles. A minute later: "Is that German?"

"Yes."

"Oh, _Du._ When you told me the title, I had been thinking _Do,_ you know, D-O. Do you speak German?"

"No."

"Then why?"

"Long story. Downloaded it as a joke originally, but haven't had the heart to remove it."

He listens some more. "This is probably one of the worst songs I have ever heard."

"Yes," she agrees.

"However, it's strangely… entertaining."

"I _know!_ That's why it's still on here. It's so bad it becomes good again."

"Like William Shatner. Or Neil Diamond," he supplies.

"Exactly," she agrees, laughing.

The song ends, and Gwen pops the iPod on shuffle.

Half an hour later, after some odd looks from Arthur, "Who is _this_ now?" a few times, and a "Tom Jones? Really?" He finally asks, "So how did you manage to amass such a wide array of music?"

"I had a roommate in college that was studying music. She had quite the collection, and I guess I absorbed some of it."

"Do you still keep in touch with her?" he asks.

"Not really, unfortunately. Last I heard she was in Japan."

"Singer?"

"No, she played the bass."

He looks at her. "Bass?"

"You know, double bass? Also bass guitar."

"That's unusual."

"So was she. Nice girl, though."

"Too bad you lost touch."

"Well, to be honest, she was the one who introduced Lance and me, so…"

"Say no more." He smiles at her. "I am enjoying most of the songs, actually. Just so you know. And you sing really well."


	38. Chapter 38

As they proceed further along, the countryside changes into rolling vistas dotted with farms. All that Guinevere sees is green: Trees, hedgerows, ivy-covered farmhouses. Horses graze here and there, twitching their tails in the morning sunlight.

Fifteen minutes away from their destination, Arthur makes a call.

"Roger? Arthur Pendragon. We'll be there in fifteen. Thanks, mate."

"What was that?" Gwen asks.

"Caretaker. My father has a local gent look after the place. He has the keys, so he'll be meeting us there."

"Look at you, all posh," she teases.

"Not me, my father," he corrects her. "I'm just taking advantage of his fondness for you." He winks at her, and she rolls her eyes.

Arthur pulls the car up the drive, and parks, the gravel crunching beneath the tires. "This is it."

It is a stone cottage, similar in style to many others in the area. The garden is well cared-for, and the cottage looks charming and inviting, like a postcard.

"It's lovely," Gwen says, taking everything in. She strolls around the front a bit while Arthur goes and greets Roger, a tall, thin man about the same age as their fathers. He shakes Arthur's hand and nods at Gwen. She waves, and crunches down the driveway to explore.

The garden is very well tended. Flowers are in bloom, the grass is neatly trimmed and the vines growing up the stone fences surrounding the property are kept in check by a careful hand. The wind blows, a warm, scented breeze. Gwen turns her head in the direction of the wind, searching for the source of the scent, and sees a large honeysuckle vine completely enveloping an arbor leading to the garden. The arbor is also flanked on either side by rosebushes, blooming profusely with yellow and orange roses. She walks through it, and finds that behind the cottage is small wooded area with the canal directly behind. She hears the distant bleat of sheep and smiles.

She walks back towards Arthur and see him take the keys from Roger and hand him some money.

_What's he paying him for? _she wonders.

"Had him pick up some things for us at the market," Arthur says, walking back to her and noticing her puzzled look.

"Smart man," she says. Arthur takes the suitcases and they go inside.

_Clearly Uther collected art in his spare time,_ Guinevere realized as she walked through the main doors into the tastefully low key reception hall, noting several pieces of framed artwork on the walls. _I'll have to make sure to take a closer look at these later._

The interior is cozy and tasteful, almost medieval on first appearance. It is not quite a manor house but it has all the trappings, including a large grandfather clock ticking soberly away, about to chime. It is serene, with warm, stuffed furniture, but not crowded or cluttered.

The only sound is their footsteps as they walk down the long hallway. Craning her neck, she can see a pair of French provincial doors that led out to a conservatory, clearly a renovation, but still rather impressive. She gets just a glimpse of the other side of the garden she had peeked at outside, catching sight of some topiary and more rosebushes.

"This way," Arthur leads her to the master bedroom, where he sets the suitcases down. There is a large four-poster bed, a fireplace, and a door leading to an en suite bath. Gwen is impressed; Uther has taste. She wanders in to inspect the bath.

"I'll just be moving in here, thanks," she calls out to Arthur.

Curious, he follows her to find her lounging in the large oval bathtub, fully dressed and dry.

"I love this tub."

He raises an eyebrow, contemplating possibilities. It is a _large_ tub, after all.

"I know that look," she says, standing and stepping out.

"You put the idea in my head, so don't blame me," he says, grabbing her and kissing her.

Arthur releases her and strolls to the toilet, so Gwen decides to go back to the bedroom. She notices a two-panel frame on a side table, hinged in the middle. She picks it up and smiles when she looks at the pictures.

One side shows what is clearly a young Uther, handsome and in his prime, standing with his hand on the shoulder of a skinny boy with hair so blonde that it is almost white. Arthur. He appears to be about eight years old, and he is holding a large fish aloft, grinning proudly. He is missing a tooth and he has a scrape on his bony right knee.

The other side is another picture of Arthur, a few years younger. He has a far-off look in his eyes, as if something in the distance has captured his attention. His white-blonde hair is tousled by the wind and there is dappled sunlight kissing his head. He clearly was unaware that he was being photographed, resulting in a beautiful, poignant picture.

Arthur emerges from the bathroom and is about to say something to Gwen when he sees her looking at the photo. As he watches, she strokes her finger gently along the glass, over his five-year-old cheek like a caress, a wistful look on her face.

She puts the picture back on the table and turns her attention to her suitcase. Arthur continues his progress into the room, making a beeline for Gwen. He puts his arms around her and kisses her neck.

"Did you catch that fish?" she asks, indicating the picture with her head.

"Sure did. It was tasty, too." He kisses her neck again and gives her a squeeze before letting go.

After a brief tour and some unpacking, interspersed with some kissing, Arthur suggests a walk to show Gwen around to some of his favorite places.

He shows her the canal, suggesting a boat ride while they are there. He points out a pub where he wants to take her to dinner. "They have an incredible shepherd's pie. It's huge; we can share one and still not finish it," he tells her.

Knowing her fondness for gardens, he points out a few that she might enjoy. He is impressed at her knowledge of the different kinds of flowers, naming most of the ones she sees with ease.

They return to the cottage a few hours later, having had lunch while they were out and about. Gwen wants to relax a bit, she says, and Arthur agrees that a little alone time would be nice indeed.

He flops down on a sofa, beckoning for her to join him. She curls up beside him, snuggling into him, and he wraps her in his arms. They both close their eyes and just absorb each other.

_I feel so complete with her in my arms._

_I feel so complete in his arms._

Arthur kisses the top of her head, and she sighs into his neck. He caresses her back, feeling her small form beneath his hands, so familiar and wonderful. He bends his head slightly and inhales her scent.

He slips his hand under the back of her shirt, sliding his warm hand along her skin, eyes still closed, and sighs.

"Enjoying yourself?" she mutters.

"Shh. I'm busy," he says.

"Doing what?"

"Research." She looks up at him, a question on her face. "I'm trying to decide which I like better: how you smell or how you feel."

She laughs, and tucks her head back down onto his chest. "I know what my favorite thing is about you," she tells him.

"Oh really?" he asks suggestively.

"You have a dirty mind," she tells him, and pinches him.

"Ow! So, what is it, then?"

She hesitates. _If I tell him, he'll abuse it. Hell, he already does. _"How you say my name."

"Guinevere," he supplies, and her stomach flutters.

"Yes, that's it," she says, snuggling closer.

He tips her chin up with his finger and kisses her softly.

"Well?" she asks.

"I think I'm going to have to do more research."

"I can't believe we fell asleep on the couch," Gwen says as they walk hand in hand to the pub Arthur had pointed out earlier.

Arthur laughs and opens the door for her. They step inside and are pleased to find out that the pub isn't too busy yet. He ushers her to a table in the corner and he holds her chair for her and she sits.

"My father brought me here as a boy. Purely for the food," he tells her. "He'd let me play darts when I got older."

"How long has your father had the cottage here?" she asks.

"As long as I can remember. It was after I was born, I'm sure. If he and Mum had bought it together it would have been sold long ago, and I probably would never have even known about it." He cranes his neck, looking for a waitress or a barman.

"Arthur?"

"Wondering if someone is coming over. I'll be back." He gets up and walks to the bar.

Gwen watches him walk away, enjoying the view as he goes. He turns and looks back and catches her watching. He grins smugly and turns away again. Gwen sighs, and leans back in her chair. She gazes out the window at the street, watching the passers-by.

"Hello, darlin'," an unfamiliar voice says, snapping her out of her daydream.

"Oh, I'm sorry, do I know you?" she asks politely, looking up at the man. He is a large man, with hard eyes and close-cropped brown hair.

"Not yet," he says, sitting in Arthur's chair. Gwen shifts uncomfortably in her seat and looks around him, looking for Arthur. She spies him at the bar, chatting with the barman. _Great time for him to find an old friend,_ she thinks.

"I just couldn't help but wonder why such a lovely little thing like yourself is sitting here all alone," he says, leaning towards her.

Gwen leans away and says levelly, "I'm not alone."

"I know, 'cause I'm here now, ain't I?"

She sighs. _Patience._ "I mean I wasn't alone before."

"You looked pretty alone to me," he scoots his chair closer. He smells of alcohol. Gwen looks desperately in Arthur's direction. This man is making her quite uncomfortable.

"What's your name, darlin'?"

"It's certainly not 'Darling,'" she says, scooting her chair away.

"Oh, come on, now, don't run away, I don't bite," he says, his voice oily. "Unless you like that kind of thing, of course." He reaches for her hand, and she pulls it away. He is just about to grab her by the wrist, when a welcome voice interrupts him.

"Excuse me, you seem to be in my chair," Arthur's voice comes steadily from behind the man. Gwen looks up at him, and the look in her eyes makes his blood run cold.

"Piss off," the man says, not looking up. He reaches for Gwen again and finds she is suddenly much farther away. Arthur has pulled his chair back several feet, away from the table, away from Guinevere. He moves the man as if he weighed no more than a child.

Arthur walks around to stand in front of the man. "The lady is clearly not interested in your attention." His voice would cut glass.

"And what are you going to do about it, boy?" he stands, and he is several inches taller than Arthur. He pokes Arthur forcefully on the shoulder. Gwen watches, not nervous, she realizes. Merely curious.

Arthur grabs the man's finger and quickly twists it down and around, wrenching it painfully. "As little as is necessary," Arthur answers, hardly exerting himself.

The man is leaning forward, wincing. Arthur flicks him on the nose with his free hand, and pulls him to the side, away from their table, where he releases him.

"All right, Harold, time for you to shove off," the barman comes over and ushers him out the door. He returns a moment later, apologizing. "Sorry about that, Arthur, Miss. He gets a few pints in him and thinks he's bleedin' Casanova."

Arthur nods at him, saying, "Just don't let him back in, Charlie." He goes back to Gwen, pulling his chair back and sitting close to her. "You all right?" he asks tenderly, checking her over for any sign of injury or upset, his eyes full of concern. He strokes her cheek tenderly.

"Yes, Arthur, I'm fine," she tells him. "I'm just glad you came back when you did."

"Charlie spotted it, actually. Sorry I left you so long; I hadn't seen him in years and got a little caught up catching up. Sorry." He kisses her.

"You want to know something funny?" she asks.

"Yes. Please tell me something funny before I decide to go outside and pound that idiot," he tells her.

_He's more upset than I am,_ she realizes. "I wasn't worried for you. Even though that… Harold… was bigger, I somehow knew that you wouldn't have any problem getting rid of him. Is that odd?"

Arthur grins broadly. _Oh God, now I've just stroked his ego,_ Gwen realizes, and says, "I guess not."

"Wayne has a black belt in Judo. He's taught us all a few things; small, but effective," Arthur explains. Then he laughs. "We used to practice on Paul."

"That's not very nice! Paul seems like such a nice, gentle person!" Guinevere is a little shocked that they'd take advantage like that.

"He is, but he's also a good sport. We never hurt him, I promise. He never gave us the opportunity." He laughs again, and adds, "He's actually the smallest of all his brothers."

"Oh my God, his poor mother. How many brothers does he have?" Gwen asks, genuinely curious now.

"Four. He's not the youngest, but he's the smallest. I've seen them all together. It looks like the circus is in town."

Gwen laughs at this, and Charlie arrives with their shepherd's pie, two plates, a pint for Arthur and a Diet Coke for Gwen. "On the house," he tells them, setting everything down.

"That's really not necessary," Gwen protests, but Charlie insists.

"Nonsense. Least I can do since you were almost accosted in my pub, Miss."

"Thank you," she says.

"Yes, thanks, Charlie. Oh, I'm sorry! Gwen, this is Charlie. Charlie, my fiancée, Gwen," Arthur says.

"Nice to meet you, Gwen," Charlie says. He is a jovial older gentleman who appears to be one of those men who is a fixture in the town. "Good to see our Arthur setting down," he slaps Arthur companionably on the shoulder.

"Nice to meet you as well, and thank you for sending my knight in shining armor to my rescue," she chuckles.

"Any time, Miss. Now eat up while it's hot."

"Thanks again, mate," Arthur says, reaching for his fork.

"Call it an engagement present," he winks at them and returns to the bar.


	39. Chapter 39

"You were right. That was incredible. And huge," Gwen says as they walk home. "I'm glad we're walking, I think I need the exercise now."

Arthur laughs. "Let's take the long way home, then."

It is fully dark, but the streets are well lit as they walk hand in hand. They pass a cottage with a beautiful front garden and the breeze blows a sweet smell in their direction.

"What is that?" Arthur sniffs, stopping.

Gwen looks around. _I know this one. I remember this smell. Aha. There._

She points to a border of plants nearby with large green leaves and white trumpet-shaped flowers, fully open in the night air. "There. The trumpet plants."

"Those? The white ones?"

"Yes. My mother had these. They open at night and the smell is incredibly sweet. And you can only smell them like this at night."

He looks at them. He closes his eyes and smells the air. "I like them. We should make sure we have some in our garden one day."

"I'd like that." She smiles up at him. He wraps his arm around her shoulder and they continue walking back to the cottage.

_I cannot believe this is happening. It cannot be. It is a cruel dream. My father wouldn't do this to me. Does he realize that this will crush my very soul?_

_ Why, Father, why?_ Why _does it matter that she is a servant?_

_ Oh, God, there she is. My beautiful Guinevere. Hands bound behind her back, broken, humiliated. For something she did not even do._

_ She can hardly walk. I can hardly watch, but neither can I look away. I owe her that much._

_ This is my fault._

_ Her eyes are red. I'm sure mine are as well. Oh no – she stumbles on her way up to the scaffold._

_ I can't watch this._

_ Someone needs to stop me or I'll throw myself on the pyre after her._

_ "Arthur." Merlin's hand on my shoulder. I don't think he's strong enough, but he does surprise me sometimes._

_ "Thank you, Merlin." My voice sounds so weak._

_ Guinevere. Her eyes. You always seem to read my mind, read it now._

_ I love you. I will always love you. I will never love another. I will not marry. I love you. My heart will die with you. I'm sorry. I love you._

_ No. No. No. Don't touch that torch to the tinder. Don't do it._ Don't.

_"Arthur!" Merlin's hand, firm at my elbow._

_ The world swims._

_ "NO!"_

"NO!" Arthur shouts, waking himself up. Sitting bolt upright in the bed, he looks around, blinking back the images of Gwen being tied to a stake, a torch set to stacked logs beneath her. He is shaking all over and covered in sweat.

He looks to his left, and sees his Guinevere sleeping there, lovely and peaceful, untroubled as a child. Willing his breathing back to normal, he lies back down and spoons up behind her, pulling her close to him. He buries his face into her hair, letting her scent wash over him, calming him, bringing him back to reality.

_That was a hell of a dream._

Arthur squeezes her tighter to him, and she stirs.

"Arthur?" she asks, her voice sleepy. He continues to cling to her. "Are you all right?" She attempts to turn in his arms, and he loosens his grip enough to allow her to turn and face him.

_He looks like he's seen a ghost._ "What's wrong, love?"

He hugs her tightly again, kissing the top of her head but still saying nothing. _"I had a bad dream" sounds so silly,_ he thinks.

"I had a bad dream."

"About me?"

"Yes! How did you…"

"Call it a lucky guess." She squirms within his tight grasp to illustrate her point.

"Oh. Yes." He doesn't loosen his grip. "You were about to be burnt at the stake."

"_What?_ Why?"

"I'm not entirely sure. I was blaming my father for it, though. I was watching as you were being led to a scaffold in a courtyard. I woke myself up with my own shouting just as the torch was touched to the wood." He shudders, thinking about it. "I'm surprised I didn't wake you, too."

"Yeah, me too," she says. "So apparently your father didn't _always _like me, then," she muses with a half-smile.

"Hah, guess not. Oh, I remember something else. It had something to do with your being a servant and my being a… I guess it would be prince, then, if my father was around. Not like your dream, where I was king. And I remember something about knowing that you were innocent of whatever it was that you were being executed for."

Gwen looks up at him. "Well, according to that book, I didn't get executed, so it must have turned out."

"Yes, you're right. Still, it was mighty unpleasant. And so _real._"

"Just a dream, love."

"Or a distant memory," he corrects her.

"Well, if your going to split hairs…" she smiles at him, and he cannot help but feel better seeing her smile. She kisses his chin and tucks her head back down into his shoulder.

"If I have any more of these dreams, I hope they're more like the kind that _you_ had," he says suggestively, and Gwen giggles.

"Go to sleep," she tells him. "I'm not going anywhere."

"That's right. You're not." He lifts her face to his again and kisses her softly, his fingers caressing her shoulder, her hip.

She sighs against him, and rubs her nose against his. "I love you, Arthur."

"I love you, Guinevere."

SATURDAY

Gwen wakes. She hears singing. _Arthur is singing?_ She listens, amused. _"It's Not Unusual" by Tom Jones? Really? After he poked fun? Oh I am going to get him._

Arthur's one-man performance is happening in the shower, so Gwen gets up and creeps silently into the bathroom. She stands in her t-shirt, facing the shower, arms crossed over her chest, waiting as the steam from the shower swirls around her head.

Minutes later, the shower turns off, and Arthur emerges. He sees Guinevere standing there giving him a look and he nearly jumps out of his skin.

"Oh! Geez, Gwen, you scared me!" He reaches for a towel. "What?"

"Nice singing, Tom." _He actually has a good voice, but I'm not telling_ him _that._

Arthur blushes. "Well, it was stuck in my head. It was either that or 'Ring of Fire' by Johnny Cash. I knew more of the words to this one," he admits.

Gwen laughs. "Really? Wow. 'Cause you only got about half of them right."

Arthur scowls, trying to stop his own laughter. He walks past her, lightly pinching her backside as he passes, and goes to dress.

"What are we doing today?" Gwen asks. She finds him in the kitchen, rummaging around in the cupboards and refrigerator. She assumes he is looking for breakfast.

"We are going to take a drive and have a picnic lunch. And tonight we have dinner reservations, so you can wear that red dress." He grins at her.

"Is that what you're working on there, the picnic?" she comes closer to inspect.

"Yes."

"Would you like some help?"

"Yes."

Chuckling, she helps him select things to bring and pack a large wicker basket that he brings out of the pantry.

"Did you eat any breakfast?" she asks.

"Um, yeah, sorry, I should have waited for you," he says sheepishly.

"That's all right. But now you have to wait for me." She opens the refrigerator and pulls out a packet of crumpets.

"Mmm, crumpets," she says, and Arthur laughs.

"What now?"

"Something Wayne said when Merlin announced to the crew that we were getting married."

"Which was…?"

"He referred to you as a 'little brown crumpet.'"

She laughs. "Sounds like him. Wait, _Merlin_ told them?" She raises an eyebrow at him.

"Let me explain! He never even gave me a chance! Someone referred to you as my girlfriend and he corrected them. And it sort of snowballed from there. So it wasn't because I wasn't _going_ to tell them. He stole it." Since he at least has the decency to look disgruntled about Merlin having stolen his news, Gwen walks over and kisses him.

"You're cute," she tells him, then goes back to preparing her breakfast.

"They actually call this 'The Romantic Road,'" Arthur tells her as they drive. It is a lovely summer day, not too warm to be out and about. He drives them along the winding road, windows down, and Gwen takes it all in, watching the rolling hills pass, enjoying the breeze. She wisely has her hair back in a braid, so it doesn't blow everywhere.

"It's lovely. I can't believe my father never brought us out here." She turns her head suddenly. "Oh, what a beautiful church!" she exclaims, making Arthur laugh.

Some errant sheep in the road stop them briefly. Gwen reaches out of the car window and pets one that comes a little too close.

"Kind of oily," she says, rubbing her fingers together, laughing. She snaps a photo with her phone and sends it to Morgana.

"Yeah, they look cute and fluffy, but they're greasy little things."

Once the road is free of sheep, they proceed a bit further and Arthur parks near one of the more wooded areas. He seems sure of their location, like it is a place with which he is familiar.

Arthur pulls the basket out of the car, and Gwen takes the blanket they've brought along. He leads her down a path she hadn't seen from the road, back through a stand of trees to a clearing by a stream.

"You knew this was here," she tells him. _I hope he never brought what's-her-name here,_ she thinks.

"Yes. Merlin and I found it when we were kids. He came along sometimes when we'd come out here, to keep me company."

"Ah." _Good._ She finds a spot relatively free of rocks and spreads the blanket out on the ground.

"I know what you were thinking, and no, I never brought her here."

"Never occurred to me," she lies.

"Liar," he says, pulling her into his arms, kissing her quite thoroughly before they sit.

"A little early for lunch yet," Arthur says, looking at his watch. "Unless you're hungry."

"Not really," she says, sliding her feet out of her black flip-flops and curling her legs around next to her.

"Any ideas on what we can do to pass the time?" he asks, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

She laughs, and looks at the stream. "How deep is that stream?"

"There are some deeper spots, but it's mostly shallow."

"All right, then," she says, standing up again. She makes her way to the bank and looks back at him, grinning, hands on her hips. "Are you going to join me or am I wading in here by myself?"

He sighs and stands, slipping off his own sandals in the process. _Not exactly what I had in mind, but okay._ By the time he reaches her, she is already calf-deep, looking intently down at the water. The stream is fairly clear and not too cold, warmed by the summer sun shining down on it.

"There are little fish in here," she says.

"Of course there are," he teases her.

"Well, _yes,_ but what I mean is that they don't seem to be troubled by us. Usually they dart away at the slightest provocation."

She picks her way along the rocky bottom, exploring, bending to pick up a fallen branch that floats past. She flings it on the opposite bank. Arthur finds some smooth flat stones and idly skips them along the surface, watching her shapely legs as she delicately moves farther along.

Something catches her eye. "What's this?" she asks, stepping further away.

Arthur looks up. Quickly, he says, "Gwen, be careful, it gets—"

Guinevere takes another step and is caught by surprise as the river bottom is no longer where she expects it to be. She slips off the rock and disappears.

"—deep over there," Arthur lamely finishes. He waits a few seconds. She isn't coming back up.

He leaps to the bank, knowing he can move faster on dry land and runs to the spot where she disappeared. Peering into the water, he sees nothing, then scans around the curve downstream and sees her several meters away, draped limply against a rock. Her face is pointed away from him and she is not moving.

With an uncharacteristic curse, Arthur runs the short distance, wades carefully in and lifts her out, dragging her to the bank. She is not breathing.

He puts his hand under the back of her neck, tilting her head back to open her airway. He blows into her mouth, trying to get her to breathe again. Chest compressions: One, two, three. Blows again. One, two, three.

"Come on, Guinevere," he talks to her, then blows again. He is just about to continue and she heaves a great cough, water bubbling forth from her mouth. He lifts her shoulders and pulls her into his arms as she coughs the rest of the water out of her lungs, wetting the back of his shirt as he pounds her back.

He holds her to him, not willing to let go, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to will the threatening tears into submission.

"Arthur," she croaks, shivering.

He stands, pulling her with him, then lifts her into his arms. They are now on the opposite side of the stream, so he walks back to where their blanket is spread, where it is shallow and narrow again, and crosses. He sets her down on a boulder and grabs the blanket. He pulls her to her feet and wraps it around her and then sits, pulling her onto his lap, wrapping her in his embrace as he tries to warm her and dry her as best he can. She coughs a few more sputtering coughs.

"Guinevere?" he asks softly, looking down into her eyes.

She looks up at him and says, "Well, that was embarrassing." She smiles weakly.

He chuckles in spite of himself. "Nothing to be embarrassed about. You slipped."

"Yes, but I _can_ swim. Quite well. I don't know what happened."

He brings his hand up and gently cradles her head against his chest.

"Ow!" she says, raising her hand to her head, where his hand is.

"That could explain it," he says, gently feeling her skull and finding a lump forming on the side, near the back.

"I must have hit my head, then," Gwen concludes.

"It would definitely seem so," he says, leaning her back to look into her eyes. He looks at them intently as if trying to determine something.

"What?"

"I think we should have you looked at. I want to make sure you don't have a concussion."

"Arthur, I'm fine. I just need a little Tylenol, perhaps, and some dry clothes, but I'm fine."

"No arguments. Come on."

Gwen sighs and allows him to lead her back to the car.

"I ruined the picnic," she says forlornly.

"We'll have it at the cottage. _After_ we have you checked out."

"Can we at least go home first so I can get some dry clothes?"

_She seems steady, and she's making sense._ "All right," he concedes.

"Well, she looks okay. No concussion, Arthur," Roger tells them both. As a compromise to the emergency room, Arthur takes Gwen to the firehouse where the cottage caretaker, Roger, is an EMT.

"Good, thanks a lot, Roger," Arthur says.

"You might want to put some ice on that, Gwen," Roger tells her. "And take Tylenol or some ibuprofen if it pains you."

"Of course, thank you," she says, standing up. To Arthur she says, "See, I'm fine."

"Just don't overdo it, kids," Roger says with a wink as they leave.

"We're going back to the cottage right now and I will make sure she gets some rest before dinner, I promise," Arthur says.


	40. Chapter 40

They sit in the garden, on a fresh blanket spread over a calm spot amid the rosebushes. Arthur has even brought some pillows out this time.

"Okay, let's try this again. You _must_ be hungry by now," he says, and she laughs.

Taking care to block the basket from Gwen's sight with his body, he reaches in. He brings out two plates and places a small oblong box on one of them. He hands this plate to Guinevere.

"What's this?" she asks.

"A present," he says.

She looks at him quizzically.

"Just open it." He is fidgeting, so she gives in. _I'll ask for an explanation later._

She opens the box and inside is a delicate gold chain with a teardrop-shaped gold pendant, slightly curved and open in the center. Nestled at the bottom is a beautiful round stone of an unusual transparent brown color. It sparkles in the sunlight.

"It's beautiful," she says, "I've never seen a stone like this." She lifts it into her palm.

"They said it was called a 'chocolate diamond.' It… um, made me think of you," he says sheepishly, suddenly shy. He peeks up at her. She gives him a slow smile, looking up at him through her lashes.

"I love it, thank you, Arthur," she leans over and kisses him sweetly. _I don't even care why anymore,_ she thinks. "I'll definitely wear it tonight," she adds.

"You could wear it now," he suggests quietly, taking the box from her and removing the necklace. He crawls around behind her and clasps the necklace closed, kissing her neck as he does so.

"Put that ice pack back on your head, love," he whispers in her ear. She snorts and does as she is told.

She turns and kisses him, her free hand on his cheek. "I know we put some food in that basket," she whispers to him, smiling against his lips.

He laughs and nudges her nose with his. "I'm hungry, too. But after lunch you are going to lay down and rest," he says sternly.

"Yes, sir," she says, trying not to smile.

"This really isn't necessary, Arthur," Gwen tells him as he tucks her into the bed.

"I want you to have a good rest, and lounging on the patio or on a sofa is not sufficient," he tells her, sitting beside her on the bed, above the covers.

"You sound like an old nanny," she complains, but she snuggles down into the bed. "Will you stay here for a while with me at least?" she asks, closing her eyes.

"Of course," he says, scooting closer. She reaches out and places her hand on his stomach. He covers her hand with his, craving the contact with her skin.

"It was a turtle," she says, eyes still closed.

_I thought Roger said she didn't have a concussion,_ Arthur thinks. "What was a turtle?"

"That I was going to look at when I fell. I thought I saw a turtle. It could have been a cleverly disguised rock, though." She smiles, scooting a little closer to Arthur.

"I fell in there once," he admits.

Gwen opens one eye and looks up at him. "Really?"

"Of course I was twelve at the time…"

She kicks him ineffectually, the blankets inhibiting her.

"With Merlin?" she asks.

"Yeah. I didn't hit my head, but I did manage to get myself covered in mud. It had been raining the previous day. Merlin helped me out, but he was even skinnier then and had no strength at all," he laughs at the memory, "so he basically dragged me up the bank. He's lucky he didn't wind up in the water with me."

Guinevere chuckles softly, and Arthur can tell she is drifting. He reaches down and strokes a few loose tendrils of hair away from her face. He leans his head back against the headboard and closes his own eyes, his thumb gently stroking her hand beneath his.

"Owww…" Arthur wakes up, head slumped over on his shoulder, resulting in a fantastically stiff neck. He opens his eyes and looks down and finds Gwen has already woken. He continues to straighten up, rubbing the side of his neck, and he hears the shower running. _Of course, she never got a shower after falling in the stream._

He stands and wanders in to investigate. "Feeling better?"

"Yes, thanks. I imagine you probably have a stiff neck now, though."

"You have no idea," he groans. "Did you bring that peppermint stuff with you?"

"Um, no, but I'll work on it a bit anyway if you like. Once I'm done here, obviously."

"I could come in…" he suggests.

"Arthur, have you _been_ in here? I'm surprised you fit at all."

"Oh. Yeah. Right," he says, remembering the small stand-up shower is not his over-tub shower back at the flat.

The water turns off. "I'm all done anyway." She steps out and wraps herself in a towel, then grabs another and towels her hair. "Just let me get my hair into some semblance of order and I'll see to that neck of yours."

"As you wish, my lady," he says, walking back to the bedroom. He pulls his shirt out of the suitcase and holds it up. "Iron," he mutters, and walks down the hall to get the ironing board and iron.

Gwen comes out, looking cozy in a dressing gown, hair drying in loose curls. The sight of Arthur ironing his shirt makes her stop in the doorway.

"That is the sexiest thing I've ever seen," she teases him, and he laughs.

"I don't like wrinkled clothes," he tells her.

"Well, when you're done, take off your shirt and come over here," she says, sitting on the bed.

"I like the sound of that," he says, grinning at her.

He walks to the bed, sitting in front of Gwen. She perches on her knees to get better leverage and starts rubbing his neck, pressing her thumb along the side and sliding it down along the muscle.

"I'm not going to smell like flowers or anything, am I?" he asks, noting the lotion she has squirted into her hand before beginning.

"No, this one doesn't have a fancy scent," she laughs, continuing to work the sore muscle.

"You are amazingly strong, my love."

"Do not be fooled by my size. I am mighty."

Arthur laughs, then, "Ow! That's it right there."

"Indeed."

Gwen sits back on her heels, done with Arthur's neck.

"Much better," he says, rolling his head side to side, trying it out. He turns and leans over to kiss her, but stops when he notices something red peeking out of the opening of her dressing gown.

Arthur pokes a finger in and slides the neck of the gown to the side to investigate. He sees part of a bra in the same deep soft red as the dress she is wearing tonight.

"Ooo, is this new?" he asks, opening the robe more. She grabs his hand and kisses his fingers.

"Yes. Now behave or we'll miss our reservation." Guinevere stands and goes to the wardrobe, pulling out the dress.

Arthur watches as she removes the dressing gown. _Please let it be a set,_ he thinks. _Thank you, God, _he thinks when the robe hits the floor, showing him a silk thong in the same red color.

Gwen slides the dress on over her head and walks back over to Arthur. She places her hand under his chin and gently closes his mouth, laughing. "When you're done ogling, you can zip me, pervert."

"Yes, but I'm _your_ pervert," he laughs, sliding his hands inside the dress and around to caress her stomach.

"Arthur, zip the damn dress." Her own laughter diminishes the severity of the command considerably, but Arthur complies, then stands to get dressed as well.

Gwen goes back into the bathroom to finish her hair, and Arthur strolls in, looking breathtaking in a white shirt and the same dark grey trousers he wore on their first date.

"You look unbelievable in a plain white shirt, do you know that?" Gwen asks, looking at him in the mirror.

The restaurant is a dimly lit but cozy place with dark wood and linen tablecloths. Arthur and Gwen are seated at an intimate table at one side of the dining room.

"How is your neck?" Gwen asks, reaching over to touch the side of his neck.

"Much better, thank you, love," he says, taking her hand and kissing her fingers.

After their order is taken, Gwen says, "So tell me more about coming here when you were a child."

"It was mostly boring. For a kid, you know, there's not a lot to do. And my father wasn't terribly good at finding ways to entertain me."

"But you did do some things together. You fished," she suggests.

"Yes, we did a lot of that. I had a bike here, so I'd ride that around some. I practiced skipping rocks."

"Which I noticed you're very good at. Eight, six, and I believe the last one I saw was twelve."

"Number of skips?"

"Of course." She grins and takes a drink. "What else did you do?"

"I'd go to the firehouse. I liked the trucks." He smiles. "But of course, what little boy doesn't like fire trucks?"

"To visit Roger?"

"Yes, he was there. He let me hang around, help out where I could."

"So is he part of the reason you became a firefighter?"

"I suppose so. All the lads there were always so nice to me. I'm sure I was a huge pain most of the time," he laughs again. "But I liked the idea of helping people, doing something heroic, noble. Seemed a better life than pushing other people's money around."

He continues. "Lorraine, his wife, used to let me help her in her garden. I used to call her 'Mrs. Roger.' She always had a huge vegetable garden. Depending on when I was there, she'd let me help plant things, which was fun because it involved dirt," Gwen laughs at this, "and then she'd let me pick things when they were ready, too. I always looked for worms while I was there."

"Bait?"

He nods.

"So you like to garden?"

He shrugs. "It's fine. Mostly I went because of the dirt-digging aspect. That, and she'd let me eat her strawberries right off the plants."

"Did they have any children?"

"No. Apparently they couldn't. So Lorraine was always happy to have me over. You know: I had no mom, she had no child, so we kind of filled a void for each other." He looks thoughtful. "Of course that never occurred to me until I was an adult."

Gwen smiles at him and takes his hand. "If you want to stop over and see her, we can do that."

"That would be nice. We can stop in when we drop off the keys on Monday, then. And maybe we can score some of her amazing strawberry jam," he smiles expectantly, and she laughs.

"I'd like to meet her," Gwen says.

He leans over and kisses her briefly, then reaches down and lifts the pendant into his hand. "This really suits you," he says, running his thumb over it.

"I do love it. It's beautiful and unique," she says, and he drops it back against her chest.

He looks around the room briefly, then stops and peers. His eyes narrow, then widen.

"What?" Gwen asks.

"Do you see that couple over there? The woman with the brown hair sitting with what would appear to be her granddad?"

"In the light blue dress that is _totally_ the wrong color for her?"

"Yes."

"What of them?"

"That's Sophia and what I presume is her husband."

"_Really?_" Gwen leans to try and get a better look.

"Don't be so obvious!" he laughs, and she settles back.

She peeks again. "Wow, he is old."

"Stop looking!"

"Arthur, she doesn't know who _I_ am. Oh. I think we've been spotted."

"Great," he says unenthusiastically. The food arrives, and an impish smirk crosses Gwen's face.

"What are you thinking, woman?" he asks, suspicious.

"Just that this could be fun," she says. She sneaks a peek to make sure Sophia is watching, and she lifts her left hand to Arthur's face, caressing his cheek, pulling his face to hers slowly. _If he can menace Lance, I can aggravate Sophia._

He looks at her, eyes smoldering. "You're being naughty again," he says softly, nuzzling her nose for a moment, letting her eyes pull him in.

"Just a little bit," she whispers against his lips. "Besides, you make it easy when you look at me like that."

He kisses her, tasting her lips like she was an appetizer. "We're making a spectacle of ourselves," Gwen says, starting to laugh.

"You started it," he says, they watch each other, amused, for another moment.

"Food's here anyway," she says, glancing in Sophia's direction again. Gwen picks up her fork and says, "She looks a little ill."

"Does she?" Arthur asks, trying not to look.

"Could just be that awful color on her, though, I'm not sure."

Arthur guffaws loudly at this, and several heads turn, causing Gwen to giggle.

"I love it when I make you laugh like that," she says.

He settles down and tries his food. "Mm. This is really good, try some." He scoops some of his risotto onto his fork and feeds it to her.

"Yes, very. Would you like to try some of my fish?"

"Of course," he says, leaning forward so she can feed him a bite. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Sophia watching, and she smiles to herself.

They stand to leave after finishing and having a wonderful time pushing the limits of public displays of affection. As they walk out the door, a voice stops them.

"Why, Arthur Pendragon, as I live and breathe!" They turn to see Sophia and her elderly husband approaching them.

_I guess they were closer to being finished than we thought,_ Gwen thinks, steeling herself for whatever is to come. _I wonder if she rushed the old boy out the door when she saw us leave._

"Sophia, how nice to see you," Arthur says, smiling.

_What?_

Sophia walks right up to him and hugs him, kissing him on both cheeks.

_Oh, we're very continental, aren't we?_ Gwen thinks, willing her eyes not to roll.

"How are you, Arthur? It's been _years,_" she gushes.

Gwen slips her left hand into Arthur's elbow, making sure her ring is visible as she does so. She squeezes his arm gently, reminding him that she's there.

"Oh, Sophia, this is my… fiancée, Guinevere Thomas," he indicates Gwen. "Gwen, this is Sophia, an old friend."

"That's a good one, Arthur, I'm sure she knows we used to go out," she says, and Gwen resists the urge to kick her. And Arthur. "Lovely to meet you, Gwen," she says, extending her hand, palm-down, to Gwen.

_Does she think I'm going to kiss her hand?_ Gwen brings her hand forward, grasping Sophia's and turning it sideways, shaking it properly. "Nice to meet you as well, Sophie," she says.

"It's _Sophia,_ actually," she says, smiling the fakest smile Gwen has ever seen.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," Gwen says, returning the same smile to her.

_Cow._

"This is my husband, Lord Nigel Fenwyck," Sophia introduces her husband. "Nigel, this is Arthur Pendragon and his fiancée… Gwen, was it?"

"Yes." Gwen clenches her jaw, keeping her face neutral.

_Gold digger._

The older man transfers his cane to his left hand, shakes Arthur's hand and says, "Pendragon, was it? Are you Uther's boy?"

"Yes, I am," Arthur nods.

"So you'll be taking the helm of Camelot Bank when Uther retires, then?"

"No sir, I did not join the family business, in fact. I'm a firefighter."

"Oh. How very… original of you," he says noncommittally, but the judgment is there, just hiding beneath the surface.

_Do not roll your eyes, do not roll your eyes,_ Gwen thinks, noting that Lord Fenwyck is paying her no heed at all. _Fine with me._

"Arthur, the two of you simply _must_ come to tea tomorrow," Sophia invites.

_Good God, does she always talk like that?_ Gwen digs her nails into Arthur's arm. He gets the hint.

"Well, actually we have plans tomorrow, but thank you very much for the invitation," he says, looking sideways at Gwen.

"Oh, pity," she pouts.

"We've kept them long enough, dear," Nigel prompts, placing his hand on her elbow. Sophia is undeterred.

"Oh! But we're headed for a walk in the gardens, would you care to accompany us?"

"Actually, my head is beginning to throb a bit," Gwen answers before Arthur accepts. "I took a nasty spill this morning and got a bit of a bump on the head," she explains, smiling, touching the bump on her head lightly with her hand.

"Oh, yes, of course, love. We should get you home for some rest," Arthur seems to regain some of his brain. "Nice meeting you," he says to Nigel, and Sophia leans in for another hug.

Gwen's eyes meet Nigel's, and she is pleasantly surprised to see her ire mirrored in his face. He nods to her, almost imperceptibly, but very respectfully. She smiles sadly at him.

Guinevere gently leads the way to the car, eager to steer Arthur away from that… woman.

_She's quiet. Probably her head is bothering her, _he thinks. He looks over at her. She's looking out the window, hands clasped in her lap.

_Hands clasped in her lap. She usually has her hand on my leg._

"How's your head?" he finally asks, reaching over for her hand.

"I'll live," she says. She reluctantly lets him take her hand.

_Bloody hell. He has no idea._ She sighs, and returns her attention to the night scenery, a dark green blur zipping past.

The fifteen-minute drive back to the cottage feels like it takes several hours.


	41. Chapter 41

"I'm going to go get some firewood," he tells her once they are back. Gwen is taking her shoes off, sitting on the bed.

"A fire would be nice," she says, managing a smile.

"Make sure you take something for your head," he tells her just before he leaves the room.

Alone, she takes a moment. _I cannot believe him. I don't even know what to say, how to broach the topic._ She sighs and drops her head into her hands.

_Bugger it._

Gwen stands and goes into the bathroom. She turns the tap on to fill the tub. As she undresses, she sees the door staring at her. Scowling, she stomps over to it, closes it tightly, and locks it.

She pins her hair up, then sinks into the tub while it is still filling, resting her head against a towel she's rolled up and placed on its ledge. Closing her eyes, she attempts to clear her head, concentrating on the warm water surrounding her body, enveloping her almost completely in the large tub.

_I'm sure she knows we used to go out,_ Gwen hears Sophia's voice echoing in her head.

_Gwen, was it?_

_Bitch,_ she thinks with a smirk.

_And Arthur. What. The. Hell. What was that hesitation before he said 'fiancée?' What was that 'how nice to see you?'_

She hears a knock at the door.

"Gwen?"

"I can't hear you, the water's running," she calls.

"The door's locked."

"What?" _Oh, I hear you fine._

_Why is the door locked?_ Arthur is puzzled. He came back from getting firewood to find Guinevere's shoes and a closed bathroom door. A _locked_ bathroom door.

He waits until the water turns off.

"Guinevere?"

"Yes?" she answers. _Don't even ask. Don't you dare ask._

_Maybe she was using the bathroom and locked it because she knows I don't want to know about that._ "You forgot to unlock the door, love."

A pause.

"I didn't forget."

_What?_ "What?"

"I didn't forget."

_Why has she locked me out?_

"I just want to be alone right now, Arthur."

"You do?"

"Yes. I really don't want to talk to you at the moment."

Pause.

"Gwen, is something wrong?"

_He asked._ "Hallelujah, he finally noticed!" she shouts sarcastically.

Arthur slides down and sits outside the door.

"Guinevere, please talk to me. Whatever I did, I'm very sorry."

"Arthur Pendragon, an apology doesn't count for anything if you don't even know _why_ you're apologizing!" she yells, frustration bringing tears along with it.

_She's crying._ He leans his head against the door. _Surely she can't be… can she? I didn't… did I?_

"Will you please open the door?"

"I'm in the bathtub."

"I don't want to have to talk to you through a closed door."

Arthur slumps against the doorframe, his head in his hands. He leans his head back, hitting it gently on the wood.

He closes his eyes and sighs. _Think._

His eyes open and he notices a small hole in the center of the doorknob. _Aha._

He stands and jogs to the kitchen. He rummages through a drawer, hands passing over rubber bands and pens and paperclips and notepads and spanners until he finds the item he is seeking.

Returning to the bathroom, he pokes the small metal rod into the hole in the doorknob, popping the lock. He opens the door quietly and walks in, a concerned look on his face.

Luckily a layer of suds covers her body.

Gwen glares at him through glassy eyes tinged with red. "How did you do that?" she asks. He holds up the tool, a thin metal rod about three inches in length with a loop in one end.

"Came with the doors," he says. "Gwen, I…"

"You are a coward and a hypocrite," she interrupts him, stopping him dead in his tracks.

"Excuse me?" he asks, surprised.

"No. I won't. Not until you explain your behavior tonight. At the restaurant. With _her._"

"Guinevere…" he doesn't know what to say.

She waits.

"I… I don't know why I was nice to her. I don't know. I was so surprised to see her. And then when she called to us, I, um… I guess I kind of panicked."

"And?"

"And she looked so… miserable. Married to a man old enough to be her grandfather. I just didn't have the heart to be cold."

"Oh, yes, because we must always pity people that _choose_ poorly," she says sarcastically. "You even said that you figured she had married some rich old lord. And that's precisely what she did. It was her _choice_ to do that, Arthur. You _know_ she is a gold digger. She is simply reaping what she has sown."

"True," he admits quietly and looks down, twirling the lock tool between his fingers.

"Do you still have feelings for her?" she asks point-blank.

Arthur looks right into her eyes. "No. Absolutely not."

"Then what the hell?" Frustrated, she leans her head back against the towel and raises her hands to her forehead, fingers massaging in tiny circles.

"Arthur. You were perfectly happy to intimidate Lance when we ran into him." Her face is pointed at the ceiling, eyes closed, talking as she massages her temples. "You even praised my calm and cool demeanor with him. So let me ask you: how would you have felt if I had been as friendly towards him as you were to Sophia? Hugging and playing nice; letting him kiss me on both cheeks?"

He squeezes his eyes shut and winces, realizing his stupidity, knowing full well that he would not have been able to handle seeing Guinevere warmly hugging Lance. Remembering the scene he almost created in the bridal shop. He walks to the tub and crouches down next to it. "Was I really that bad?"

"'Sophia, how nice to see you,'" she mocks his tone. "'This is my… fiancée, Guinevere Thomas.' _After_ I had to remind you that I was there. Nice pause, by the way." Gwen glowers at the bubbles in front of her. Another tear slips disobediently from her eye and she angrily wipes it away.

Arthur drops his head, resting it on the cool rounded edge of the bathtub. "Oh, God, I was a complete prat, wasn't I?" _She's right: Coward. Hypocrite._

"No. You were a total ass. You're just lucky you didn't accept her invitation to tea."

"I got the hint that you weren't up for that by the way you very nearly broke the skin on my arm," he tries a smile.

"Well, at least I managed to injure you a little. That's worth _something._ I guess." She picks at her cuticles, not looking at him.

Arthur heaves a great sigh, feeling exactly like the total ass that Gwen has named him. "I have no explanation for my behavior tonight. No excuse. I was an idiot and I was wrong to treat you that way." He adjusts his position, trying to get her to look at him.

"Guinevere, please know that I love you. Only you. What I had with her wasn't even love, in retrospect. I didn't even know what love was until I met you. Honest." He reaches over and strokes her cheek lightly, with one finger, timid, testing.

She says nothing for several minutes. When she finally looks at him, her eyes are pained, pleading, but the anger is melting. "Why, Arthur? Why do you love me? I need to hear it." A whispered question.

"I love you because you are always you. You don't put on airs or pretend to be something or someone you're not. I love your sensible, intelligent mind. I love how you know little tidbits about almost everything. I love that you like action films better than chick flicks. I love that one of your closest friends is an old man," he smiles at this, and places his entire palm against her cheek. "I love that I can say anything to you; that I can tell you everything. I love that you have no tolerance for idiots like Vivian." She finally smiles, tears running down her cheeks. "I love that you are an amazing cook, even though I'm afraid I'm going to get fat eating your cooking. I love that you love cars. I love how you smell. I love how _you_ say [_my_ name. I love your soft brown eyes and your soft brown skin. I love how you bite your lower lip when you are thinking hard about something." He runs his thumb along her lower lip, and her eyes close. "I love you because you don't try to change me, yet you still make me a better person. I love you because you are everything I need and everything I'm not. I love you because you are the missing part of me."

He leans over and kisses her, and when she accepts his kiss, he sighs heavily, almost crying with relief.

"I'm sorry, Guinevere. I know why I'm apologizing now, and I'm so sorry," he whispers, resting his forehead against hers.

"I love you, Arthur," she whispers back, leaning her chin forward to kiss him once more. She leans back and he wipes the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs.

Gwen stares at him a moment, then says, "Well are you going to join me or not?"

She has never seen a person get undressed that fast before.

Arthur steps into the tub and she scoots forward to allow him to sit behind her, so she can nestle into him.

"Wow, you like hot water," he says, exhaling, letting his body adjust to the temperature.

"What's the point, otherwise?" she says, leaning back against him, her head on his shoulder.

"How is your head?" he asks, suddenly realizing that perhaps it wasn't bothering her at the restaurant after all.

"It actually was fine at the restaurant," she chuckles a little, then continues. "But it is starting to trouble me some now. I imagine the stress didn't help it any," she says. "I didn't say that to make you feel bad, honest," she adds quickly, feeling him slump slightly behind her.

"Sorry." He reaches up and rubs his fingers along the sides of her neck, down to her shoulders, willing the tension out of her. She leans forward to give him better access.

Arthur finds some soap and soaps his hands up, making them nice and slippery, and he returns them to her neck, using the soap much the same way Gwen used the lotion on his neck earlier that evening.

She sighs, feeling his strong fingers on her neck, shoulders, between her shoulder blades, and down along either side of her spine.

"You have a beautiful back," he says, running his hands up her back, his palms flat against her skin.

"That is the second most bizarre compliment you've given me," she tells him.

He laughs. "What was the first?"

"When you told me I had cute toes."

"You do," he says, then finds her feet with his under the water, rubbing against them.

He rinses the soap off her back and neck and pulls her back to him and he places a few kisses along her neck. _I like her hair down, but when it's up I can do this a lot easier,_ he thinks, knowing she likes her neck kissed.

Gwen turns and kisses him, and he groans and holds her to him as if he never wants to let go. She has her hands on his chest, her palms flat against him. She runs her hands up to his shoulders, just feeling the contours of his muscles against her palms, his skin warm and wet.

Arthur slides one hand beneath the water, resting it on her hip briefly before moving to her rear. He pulls her closer. She squeaks.

"Did I hurt you?" He asks, pulling away.

"No, I just…" she rests her head down on his shoulder.

"Gwen?"

"… not tonight, Arthur. Sorry," she says to his chest.

"Oh. Okay."

"Are you sure?"

"Well, I can't say I'm not disappointed, but it's okay, really." He pauses. Then, carefully: "Can I ask why?"

"It's my head. Honest this time." She kisses him.

"Oh good. Well, not good that your head is hurting you. Good because I was afraid you were still mad at me."

"No, I think I've punished you enough."

"We should get you some Tylenol and into bed, love," he tells her.


	42. Chapter 42

Guinevere is standing at the wardrobe, staring, wrapped in a towel. Unlike Arthur, she was not content to live from a suitcase and had placed her things there. She contemplates the black satin negligee she had bought as a surprise for Arthur. Sighing, she tucks it back into its hiding place. _That would be too cruel. I'll wear it tomorrow night._

As she reaches for the familiar t-shirt, she spies the corner of something rectangular, crammed flat against the back, having partially slid down between the shelf and the cabinet. _What's this?_

"I don't think that wardrobe leads to Narnia, if that's what you're staring at," Arthur approaches behind her, wearing navy blue boxer briefs.

"Arthur, is that a literary joke," she smiles over her shoulder at him, "or did you only see the movies?"

"Hey, I read the books!" he protests. "Well, some of them. At school. Because it was an assignment," he finishes sheepishly.

Gwen laughs and Arthur notices what she's holding in her hand. "What's that?"

She holds it up for both of them to see. "It appears to be a photo of your parents."

"Where did you find that?" he looks closer, always hungry for glimpses of his mother.

"It was jammed in the back of this wardrobe," she hands it to him and pulls the shirt on over her head, then pulls the towel down underneath it. Distracted by this new find, Arthur carries it over and sits with it on the bed.

"This is before they were married. Look, she's wearing the ring," he points.

Gwen sits beside him and looks at it. "She was so beautiful. And her personality comes through in this picture, too. You can see that she was a wonderful person."

"Look at my father. How he's looking at her. I've never seen him look like that before," Arthur whispers.

"That's exactly how you look at me, Arthur," she tells him, kissing his cheek.

He smiles. "I guess I do have a few of his traits after all, then."

"The best ones, I'm sure. Your father was hard on you, you say, but I think you may be a little hard on him as well."

"Probably." He sighs. "It can't have been easy for him. I mean, I cannot even _think_ about if…" he trails off, not even able to say the words. He swallows hard.

Gwen slides her arm around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder. "You are as beautiful as your mother, you know. Inside and out."

"You don't know how much I wish that I could have known her. Even for a little while. I hope that she would be proud of me."

"She is. And she's watching over you. I'm sure of it. Both our mothers are up there," she looks up, "keeping their watchful eyes on us. Making sure we behave. Keeping us safe. Who knows, maybe they are keeping one another company?"

Arthur says nothing, contemplating her words. She smiles at him after a minute and nonchalantly wipes a tear from his cheek.

"I'll go get the fire started," she says, kissing his shoulder and leaving him there with the photo.

"Okay. Wait, what?" Her words didn't register right away and he looks at her.

"I. Am going. To light. The _fire_," she exaggeratedly repeats.

This forces a laugh from Arthur, who turns to watch her, thinking it will be top-notch entertainment.

Guinevere finds some kindling and some newspaper, and she constructs an expert pyramid of wood over the twisted paper. She lights the newspaper in a few places, and waits patiently.

The wood takes, and Arthur is both disappointed and impressed. Gwen puts some of the larger pieces of wood on, closes the fireplace doors, and turns back to Arthur.

"You were expecting a different result?" she asks, noting his expression.

"Maybe. I'm just… surprised. You do that better than I do."

"Arthur, you're a fireman!"

"Yes, I _extinguish_ fires, I don't _start_ them."

"What about your training fires? You know, the buildings slated for demo and whatnot?"

"We usually use some sort of accelerant to start those."

"So you cheat: You douse the place in petrol, fling in a match and call it a day?" She plunks down beside him on the bed.

"Pretty much, yeah. So. Explain yourself."

"No, my father used to take us camping a lot when we were kids. I always seemed to have a knack for getting the campfire going." She shrugs.

"You slept in a tent and everything?"

"Oh, God, no, we had a caravan. Father's a bit of a princess that way," she laughs, and looks back at the photo still gripped in Arthur's hand.

He looks down at it as well, and says, "So what should we do with this?"

"We get it beautifully framed and give it to your father as a gift."

"But it's creased, and this corner is damaged."

"Love, that can be restored. We just have to take it to the right place."

"The color is still good at least. I suppose because it was inside that dark wardrobe for years."

"Yes. It'll make a wonderful Christmas gift. Unless his birthday is before then."

"It's next month."

"Perfect." She gently takes the photo and slides it carefully into a side pocket on her suitcase.

He scoots under the covers, holding the blanket up for her to slide in beside him.

"What's with the underwear?" she says.

"Didn't bring anything resembling pajamas," he grins at her.

"That's awfully presumptive of you," she says.

"Well, next time I'll make sure to allow for head injuries." He kisses her nose. "Speaking of, did you take anything?"

"Shoot." She starts to get up. He gently pushes her back down.

"I'll get it."

Gwen sits up, unpins her hair, and twists it into a braid while she waits. _More comfortable this way._ She reaches back to feel the bump on her head and thinks it's gotten a little smaller, though it's still quite tender.

Arthur returns with a cup of water in one hand and Tylenol in the other. She takes them and hands the cup back to him. "Thank you."

He stops and puts a few more pieces of wood on the fire and switches off most of the lights before he climbs back in bed. He gathers her to him, and they lay facing each other, close together, watching each other in the dim light.

"Tell me about your mother," Arthur says simply.

"I don't remember much."

"Tell me what you remember," he prods, stroking her cheek.

"She was kind. Fair. I remember that she would go to great lengths to treat Elliot and me fairly and equally. He's two years younger and a boy—was a boy—so it wasn't always easy, I'm sure. I remember piles of gifts under the tree at Christmastime. My father later told me that Mum would think she was done shopping and then see one more thing that she _had_ to get for one of us. So then that meant she _had_ to find something for the other to even it out again." She smiles at the memory. Arthur takes her hands in his, holding them between their two bodies.

"I loved her hair. It was so soft, like yours. Mine is more coarse, thanks to my father, and I was always jealous of hers. She'd let me brush it sometimes. Being little, I'd usually make a great bloody mess of it, but she would still let me."

"I love your hair," Arthur says, releasing one of her hands to twirl an errant curl around his finger.

"Most people want what they don't have. I always wanted to have sleek, wavy hair, like Morgana's. She always envied my curls. Human nature."

She continues. "I get my love of cooking from her. She'd let me help in small ways, as much as I could. I'd drag a stepstool into the kitchen from a hall closet and perch next to her. I could scramble an egg and cook pasta by the time I was five."

"I can barely do that now," Arthur says.

Gwen laughs at him. "We'll work on that. Mind you, I wasn't allowed to _crack_ an egg until a few years later. She let me try once while I was helping her make a quiche. I was a little overenthusiastic about it and the entire egg ended up on the floor."

"At least you didn't get shell everywhere. That's the problem I always have," he laughs.

"Why does that not surprise me?" She twines her fingers with his, and sticks her cold toes between his calves. He doesn't even jump. In fact, he smiles when he feels her cool touch on his legs.

"What else?" he asks, freeing one hand to stroke it along the side of her neck.

"She was very smart."

"What did she do?"

"I'm not entirely sure, exactly; some kind of engineer. My father said that he was initially attracted to her brain."

"Really?"

"Yes. And I don't believe him for a second."

Arthur laughs, remembering the picture he saw. "Your mother was beautiful, too. It must have been very difficult to watch her…"

"…die?" Gwen finishes. He nods. "It was, but Dad shielded us from a lot of it. I was only eight, remember? Old enough to understand, but too young to be able to fully be exposed to all the details. Elliot and I spent a lot of time at our grandparents' house towards the end."

Arthur leans forward and kisses her, slowly and softly, lingering over her lips. "I love you so much," he whispers.

"I love you, too Arthur," she whispers back, eyes closed.

"Why?" Arthur asks, and Gwen slowly opens her eyes. His are twinkling at her.

"Oh, so it's like that, is it?" she asks, smiling. She snuggles into the cozy world they've created in the center of the large bed, a world where there is only the two of them and nothing else matters.

"I spilled my guts. Now it's your turn," he says, kissing her again as motivation, his tongue teasing her lips briefly, willing them to part for him. She does, but only briefly.

"I can't tell you if you keep kissing me," she tells him as he continues to kiss her.

She leans back, pulling her face away from his, and holds his cheeks between her hands.

"I love you because from the moment you smiled at me on that dance floor, I could no longer remember my life before you were in it and was no longer able to picture my life without you in it. I love your creative mind. I love your charismatic personality; the way you draw people to you and they cannot help but like you. I love you because you make me feel like the most beautiful, most cherished person in the entire world. I love how your eyes get all crinkly when you smile at me." She kisses him once, and touches the corner of one eye gently with her fingertips.

"I love you because you aren't afraid to be vulnerable with me. I love you because underneath your tough-guy exterior, you're a soft, caring person with a beautiful heart. I love you because you'd rather help people than push their money around. I love you because you make me laugh more often and harder than anyone else ever has. I love you because you make my dull life interesting. I love your hands." She takes his hands in hers, looking at how large they are in comparison to her own. She lifts them to her lips and kisses his knuckles.

"I love this tooth," she says, poking his crooked front tooth with her finger when he opens his mouth to laugh. She continues, running her fingertips along his brow, brushing against his hair. "I love that you are yourself with me and that I can be myself with you, completely honest and without fear. At the risk of freaking you out, I love you because I know you will be a wonderful father." She peeks at him and relaxes when she sees a smile creep over his face, almost against his will. "I love you because I am not complete without you. I love you because you aren't perfect, but you're perfect for me."

He looks across at her, his eyes aflame with a love she can actually see. "Guinevere…" he sighs, his voice thick and rough with emotion.

"Oh yes, I forgot that one, didn't I? I love that all you have to do is say my name and I turn into a puddle of hot goo," she whispers.

He smiles at her and leans over to kiss her, his hand on the side of her neck, thumb gently stroking the line of her jaw. "You love my _hands?_" he asks, breaking the kiss. Gwen laughs and takes one of his hands between hers.

"Yes. You have remarkably beautiful hands for a man. Especially considering your line of work." She massages the sturdy muscles of his hand for a moment, contemplating it. "Not to mention," she kisses the tip of his index finger, "how they feel," she kisses his middle finger, "when you touch me." The ring finger, then the pinky.

He closes his eyes as she turns his hand and kisses his palm, the touch of her lips on the sensitive flesh there sending a line of fire through his body. Arthur swallows, squeezing his eyes together.

"You aren't making this very easy for me, you know," he tells her, eyes smoldering. "You have no idea how much I want you right now." His voice is low, quiet.

She releases his hand, saying, "Sorry. But you _did_ ask." She thinks a moment before saying, "I promise I'll make it up to you tomorrow," with a sly smile, remembering the negligee she set aside earlier.

His eyes open wide, intrigued at her tone. "Oh, really?" He asks, raising his eyebrows.

She leans over again, her hands now on his chest, and she kisses him ardently but briefly. "Yes," she says simply.

His lips find hers again and he pulls her close, his hands bunching the material of her shirt in his fists. Gwen sighs against him as her lips part beneath his, their tongues melding, seeking one another out. Arthur's hands flatten back out and caress her back as he leans further into her, rolling her onto her back. Guinevere squeaks again as the tender spot on her head presses into the pillow.

Arthur pulls away gently, his breathing ragged. "Sorry," he says, rolling them back to where they were. He raises his hand to her head and touches it very gently, concern in his eyes.

"No, I'm sorry," she says, closing her eyes again. _I hope it feels better tomorrow._

"Come here," he says, laying on his back and pulling her to lie against him, her head on his shoulder. "This okay? For your head, I mean?"

"Yes," she says, cuddling into him and placing her hand on his chest. "The fire is dying."

"Let it. I don't want to get up, and neither do you," he says, brushing a few stray curls back away from her face. She chuckles, closing her eyes.

"Go to sleep, love," he tells her, reaching to turn off the last remaining light. He kisses her forehead before closing his own eyes.


	43. Chapter 43

SUNDAY

_Flip._ Arthur hears a strange noise. He's still trying to sleep, but he heard it several minutes ago as well. _If I hear it again, I'll open my eyes and look. Maybe._

_Flip._ He sighs and opens his eyes. He is looking at Gwen's elbow. She is propped up in the bed, half sitting, reading a book. _Ah. Turning pages,_ he thinks, closing his eyes again.

A minute later, they open. _Have to pee._ Sighing again, he reaches over, gives Gwen's arm a little squeeze, then swings his feet to the floor and staggers to the bathroom.

Bladder empty, he's now thirsty, so he goes to the sink. Picking up the cup, he finds that it is damp. _She must have taken some more Tylenol._

He fills the cup. Then he notices her toothbrush. _Is that damp as well?_ He reaches down and prods the bristles gently with his fingertip. They are wet, as if the toothbrush has been used recently.

_She brushed her teeth. Good morning, indeed, Arthur._

He grabs his toothbrush and hastily brushes his own teeth before he finally gets his drink of water.

Sauntering nonchalantly back to the bed, he climbs back in and scoots close to Gwen. He noses his head under her elbow like a puppy looking for a scratch behind the ears, and she raises her arms, allowing him to rest his head on her stomach, using her as his pillow.

She brings her arms back down and rests her book on top of his head, trying not to smile as she does so.

"Hey!" Arthur protests.

"Hey, yourself," she replies.

Beneath the blankets, Arthur slides his hand across her stomach, reaching around so he is holding her hip. He hugs her and wiggles closer, burrowing against her slightly, his head brushing against the bottoms of her breasts.

He can feel her stomach muscles jerk as she starts laughing, and he shifts position so his head is higher, between hers and her book. He reaches up, pulls the bookmark out from where she has parked it inside the back cover, and places it in her page. He takes the book from her and closes it. _Love in the Time of Cholera._

"Sounds depressing," he says.

"It's a beautiful book, shut up," she tells him as he sets it on the side table.

Arthur rests his head back down on her stomach and replaces his hand where it was under the covers, on her hip. "How's your head?" he asks, fairly certain of her answer.

"Much better, thank you," she says, running her fingers through his already tousled hair, her fingertips feeling magical on his scalp. He sneaks his hand under the edge of her t-shirt, against the skin of her hip.

_He thinks he's being subtle,_ she thinks, suppressing the urge to laugh. "Did you sleep well?" she asks. _I'll play your little game._

"Yes. Well, until this morning, when I kept hearing this irritating papery noise every five minutes or so." His hand creeps further up, finding the waistband of her knickers, slipping one finger beneath it briefly before sliding his hand up further.

"Next time I'll try to read quieter than silently," she says, pulling a lock of his hair.

He rolls back slightly, looking up at her. She looks down at him, smirking. He slides his hand higher, grazing his knuckles on her breast.

"You brushed your teeth."

"I did."

His hand roves higher, and he runs his thumb across her nipple, which tightens immediately at his touch.

"So did I," he tells her, lifting himself up on his elbow, his eyes locked on hers.

"I heard."

He leans forward, kissing her, immediately passionate, hungry, repeating all his tender words last night with his actions. His hand on her breast squeezes gently, then caresses again, and she slides back down, lying beneath him, her shirt getting bunched up around her waist in the process.

Arthur sucks at her lips as if he is trying to get the last drop of sweetness from them before moving down to her neck, running his tongue lightly across her warm skin, causing her to lean her head back with a sigh.

He brings his hand down and the bunched disposition of her shirt catches his attention, so he takes advantage. He presses his hand against her, gently, but firm enough to draw a quiet moan from her.

Sitting back, he reaches over and coaxes her panties down and off, shoving the blankets down and kissing her just below her bellybutton as he does so. He scoots lower, dropping his head between her legs, kissing the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, working his way up, where he slips his tongue into her moist warmth. She cries out and grabs at the blankets with her hands.

Arthur kisses and licks at her, his tongue darting and sweeping, causing a torrent of pleasurable sensations to course through Gwen's body. She writhes beneath him, able to think of nothing but him. His hands on her skin. His tongue in her most intimate place. His hair tickling the skin of her inner thighs. His shoulders beneath her knees.

He moves one hand down and slides a finger into her, moving in and out, while his tongue attends to the swollen nub of nerves between her legs, teasing it, creating the wave of almost unbearable pleasure that is beginning to course through her body.

Guinevere's back arches and she presses her head back into the pillows and gasps, "Oh, Arthur… oh my God…" just before her climax hits her with a shout and her whole body jerks.

Arthur withdraws his head from her, chuckling warmly, quite pleased with himself. He crawls up across her body, grinning smugly, and he kisses her eyelids, her nose, her lips.

"I was supposed to be making last night up to _you,_ you know," she says after a time. Arthur is lying atop her, his head on her chest.

"Well, it's not like I planned that," he says, squirming slightly, pressing his aroused manhood against her thigh. He turns his head and kisses the small beauty mark between her breasts.

"You knew exactly what you were going to do the minute you saw my toothbrush," she accuses him, sliding her hand down his torso.

He kisses her breast a few times, working his way to her nipple. "Well, I had a general idea, but then I was laying here on your stomach," he kisses it, "and, well, it was right _there…_"

Gwen laughs, but her laughter is cut off by his tongue swirling around her nipple as his lips close over it. He prods her again with his manhood and her hand continues its course to his underwear, sliding it inside, finding him.

Arthur groans and quickly pulls the boxers down and off, kicking them off his foot beneath the covers. _I'll get those later._

He moves to her other breast while Gwen's hand holds and strokes him, her small soft hand driving him to distraction and there are moments where he forgets what he's supposed to be doing.

With a growl, Arthur rolls onto his back, bringing her with him, pulling her over him. He finds her lips, kissing them, greedy for them, thrusting his tongue into her mouth to find hers just as eager.

Gwen reaches down and takes him in her hand again, this time to guide him into her, sliding herself around him slowly. She closes her eyes, concentrating on the sensation of him inside her, loving the familiarity of him mixed with an excitement that doesn't seem to diminish.

Arthur shifts up on his elbows, easing up into a seated position. Gwen adjusts, repositioning her legs so she is sitting in his lap, her legs around him.

He holds her to him, skimming his hands down her back to hold her rear, lifting her slightly, helping her move on him, rocking their hips together and apart.

"Open your eyes," he whispers. She complies, and looks down at him, into his blue eyes. They are dark with desire as the burn into hers, locking with hers, as they move together.

Guinevere's hands are resting on Arthur's shoulders, gripping. He feels one loosen and slide up to tangle into the disarray of his hair, pulling his face closer to hers.

He lifts his chin to kiss her briefly, still maintaining eye contact, willing her to keep her eyes open and meet his gaze. She does, her dark brown eyes appearing almost completely black.

"I lo— I love you, Guinevere," he tells her, his voice a low, soft grunt, his desire making him stutter. He is getting close to his completion and he speeds up their motion.

"I… love you, Arthur," she gasps in reply, the declaration from her throaty voice sending him over the edge and he thrusts himself into her, hard and deep. It feels as though his whole being is surging into her as he comes with a long, primal groan.

She drops her forehead to his, breathing heavy and erratic, and he rocks them a few more times, pushing himself to bring her to her second climax of the morning.

He is not disappointed when a moment later, she gasps sharply a few times with an, "Oh!" and digs her nails into his shoulder.

They sit together, waiting for their heartbeat and breathing to settle back down, kissing sweetly on and off, Arthur nuzzling her neck. He reaches up and removes the elastic holding the end of her braid, his fingers working her hair free so that he can bury his face into her curls as he holds her to him.

Gwen finally leaves his lap, separating him from her, and she looks sideways at him, a slight scowl on her face.

"I know, I did it again, didn't I?" he grins sheepishly at her.

"Yes." She tries to hold her stern expression, but the corners of her mouth are twitching.

He leans over and kisses her. "I promise I will be completely compliant to your will tonight." He makes his face as solemn as he can manage at the moment.

"Good. Because if you don't, I may just… oh, conveniently _forget_ my promise."

He gasps in mock horror. "You wouldn't!" he cries, clutching his chest dramatically. She shoves him on the shoulder and he falls to one side, laughing.

"What are we doing today?" Gwen asks, fresh from the shower in her dressing gown. She is staring at the wardrobe.

"Well, we _could_ just stay here and…" he trails off.

"Didn't you say something about a boat ride?" she asks, ignoring his suggestive remark.

"…or we could go for a boat ride," he switches horses mid-stream, and Gwen laughs.

Then, she surprises him. "Can we fish?"

"You want to fish?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"_Yes._ This surprises you?"

"Well, yes, it does."

"I like to fish," she says simply. "Maybe we can catch some dinner," she suggests.

He stares, smiling. "You are indeed full of surprises, my love."

She smiles and turns back to the wardrobe now that she knows how to dress for the day.


	44. Chapter 44

They walk through the garden, back through the shrubs and trees, towards a boathouse that Gwen hadn't seen yet. Arthur proposes a challenge.

"So. I think that we need to make this a little more… interesting."

"How so?" Gwen asks, wondering what he has in mind.

"Whoever catches the largest fish gets to have their fish cleaned by the other."

"Or how about cooked?" she suggests, knowing full well that they'd be finding a restaurant if she won.

"Well, as I have every intention of winning, I _should_ agree to those terms," he says. "However. _Just_ on the _off-chance_ that you _do_ catch a larger fish than me, why don't we keep it to cleaning?"

"That's probably safest," she agrees, then adds, "Especially because _when_ I catch the larger fish, I would like to be _able_ to eat it for dinner."

"This is, of course, contingent on us catching any fish worth keeping," he clarifies.

"Obviously."

They reach the boathouse, which contains a simple fishing boat, a set of oars, several poles, tackle boxes on shelves, some life vests, and a few hats hanging here and there. Gwen blinks a few times, letting her eyes adjust to the dim light, while Arthur works on freeing the boat.

He checks that there is fuel in the small motor and starts it briefly to make sure it is working still. It is. "Excellent," he says, standing.

"Choose your weapon, my lady," he declares, indicating the fishing poles.

Gwen walks to them, selects the one she likes. It is a very warm and humid day, so she also takes one of the hats hanging on a hook on the wall and places it on her head. Arthur smiles at the sight of her in the fishing hat, and she defends herself. "It's hot out this morning. My skin may be dark, but it does get sunburn, you know," she says, laughing.

He grabs his pole and a tackle box, the oars, a couple life vests, and a few more items and places them into the boat. Gwen has a cooler with some bottles of water, fruit, and a container of worms Arthur bought earlier for bait ("No time to go digging this morning").

As he rows them out into the canal, Gwen looks up and says, "Probably a good thing we're going out this morning. I think it may rain later."

"You think?" He looks up at the sky, hazy with the humidity, but blue.

"Definitely. Too humid for there not to be a threat of rain. Or a thunderstorm, even."

"Well, let's go find some fish, then," he says, firing up the motor and heading them out to deeper waters.

As he navigates their modest vessel through the waterways, Gwen lounges on the bench, watching the scenery pass. There are several houses similar to Uther's cottage that she catches glimpses of, and lots of green. Everywhere, green; lush and gorgeous.

Arthur knows the canals well, so he mostly watches Guinevere. She is dressed for the hot weather, which means he is treated to a lot of her lovely skin. She is wearing a snug-fitting spaghetti strapped tank top, striped in various shades of blue, khaki shorts that are quite short (_thank you very much,_ thinks Arthur), and her black flip-flops. Her toenails are painted purple, he notices. Her hair is in two bunches secured with elastic at either side of the back of her neck, and combined with the fishing hat that is slightly too big for her, she looks very much like he imagines she would have looked as a young girl. _A very desirable, mature young girl, with the sun glinting amber on her tawny skin…_

Arthur watches her through his sunglasses, but Gwen knows she is being studied. She looks at him and inclines her head. _Well?_

"You just look really cute," he shrugs, and his eyes briefly drop to where the pendant of her new necklace is resting just above her breasts.

"You, too," she counters. And he does. He is wearing a grey t-shirt that says _The Clash_ across the chest, black cargo shorts, and he's barefoot, his leather flip-flops having been discarded as soon as his butt hit the bench. _He always wears such simple clothes, but for some reason they look fabulous on him. It's so unfair._ "I like your sunglasses. They suit you," she tells him.

"Here we are," he says, maneuvering the boat to the place that he likes. "This is where I caught the fish in the picture."

"Lucky spot?"

"Something like that." He drops an anchor and opens the cooler, taking out the container of worms.

He pries the lid off and holds the container out to her as if he were offering her a snack.

"No thanks, I'm still full from breakfast," she says with a smirk. Arthur laughs and sets the worm tub on the top of the cooler between them.

He is impressed that she isn't squeamish about baiting the hook, spearing the worm on it without a second thought, even after it wriggles frantically. "Settle down, you," she talks to the worm before spearing it a second time, securing it.

They sit quietly for a time, waving at other fishermen floating past. Arthur unintentionally snags some plant material on his hook, scowling as it drags into the boat, wetting his shorts. Gwen laughs at him and casts her line out further.

"So do you have to be at work at noon tomorrow?" Gwen asks as they stare out over the water. It has been on her mind, and she's been wanting to ask about it.

"I'm expected at _some_ point tomorrow, but if I don't get there spot on noon I don't think anyone will have a heart attack."

"Okay," she says noncommittally. She's not looking forward to spending all the balance of Monday alone, especially after having him all to herself since Friday. _Thursday night,_ she corrects herself.

"I know, I don't want me to go either," he says, noting that she's trying to hide her disappointment.

"It's all right. I'll find some way to survive without you," she tries joking to lighten the mood. "I promise I won't fall into any rivers while you're working."

He chuckles at this, and says, "Well, that's certainly encouraging."

They both have some nibbles, but too furtive to snag. Gwen has to replace her worm at one point, much to Arthur's amusement, because it had been eaten too far away.

"Hang on…" Arthur snaps to attention, watching his line. The round plastic bobber disappears beneath the surface of the water and he gives the line a yank and starts reeling. The fish breaks the surface and comes into view. Gwen starts laughing.

"Aw, what a cute little fish you've caught," she says, as though she's cooing over a toddler. He's caught a small perch, about four inches long. "Maybe we can find a nice bowl for him and keep him as a pet," she suggests.

Scowling furiously, he nabs the tiny wiggling thing and removes the hook from its mouth. He looks at it, pointing its tiny face at his own, and tells it, "I'll let you live… this time. Next time you may not be so lucky." As he tosses it back, he tells it, "Off with you. Go and get big so I may eat you at a later date."

"Do you always talk to fish?" she asks him, laughing at his performance.

"Just the little ones. It's all a part of my evil plan to lull them into a false sense of security so that I may more easily catch them once they're big enough to be worth my time," he winks conspiratorially at her.

"And how is that working out for you?" _He is so ridiculous, and I love it._

"You know that fish in the picture?"

"Yes?"

"Haven't caught one that size since then."

"Oh! And you were so confident that you would best me!" she exclaims, laughing hard now.

"Well, a certain amount of trash-talking is to be expected in any competition, my love," he is laughing now, too.

"I see. Hiding behind false bravado, then. Whoa!" She hasn't been paying close attention to her line and suddenly the pole jerks, bending just slightly.

She grabs the pole tight in her hands, pulling back, and starts to wind the reel back, steadily, slowly, but not too much so. She stands, planting her feet to get better leverage.

Arthur can see she's getting a struggle from the fish and comes over to assist her. She shoos him away with a, "Back off, poacher! This is _my_ fish!"

He laughs and sits back down, but near enough that he can grab her if she loses her balance. He reaches for a bottle of water and takes a drink, watching the muscles in her arms and legs strain, an adorable look of determination plastered on her face.

Gwen finally lands the fish, swinging it into the boat. It thrashes and splatters Arthur. She sits back down and looks at it. A brown trout, about a foot long, flops and gasps in the bottom of the boat. Arthur hands her the water bottle, and she takes a drink.

He is just about to reach for the fish when she leans forward and grabs the fish in both hands, once again surprising and impressing Arthur. She removes the hook from its mouth and hoists it in the air, her hand hooked in one of its gills.

"Nice fish," she says, grinning broadly.

"It'll do," he is trying not to smile. _That's a gorgeous fish, _he thinks.

"Hope you're prepared to clean it for me."

"Well, we're not done yet; I could still come up with a bigger one," he says.

"Indeed you could," she says, stringing the fish on a rope line and hanging it over the side of the boat. "But we don't have too much longer before the weather changes." She points in the distance, to a solid grey bank of clouds approaching.

"Hmm. You were right." He turns his attention to his hook, baiting it once again and casting it out. Gwen lounges back, content with her catch, and starts to reach into the cooler for a snack.

She stops, looking at her hands. _Sniff._ Fish. Worms. She reaches her hands over the side of the boat and swishes them in the water briefly, but it doesn't seem sufficient.

Looking into the cooler, she spies a bunch of grapes. _Aha._ She takes a bunch, holding it carefully by the stem. She holds it aloft and plucks a grape from the bunch with her teeth.

Arthur has been watching his line, but finally Gwen's motion catches the corner of his eye. He turns slightly, watching her surreptitiously. _She looks like a Greek goddess sitting there eating those grapes like that._ She lifts the bunch again, and he watches, transfixed, as she leans her head back, opens her mouth, and delicately surrounds a grape with her teeth and tongue. As she plucks it from the bunch, he jumps just at the moment when the grape pops free, and he realizes that he is now staring and his heartbeat has increased slightly.

"Grape?" she offers, fully noting his stare.

"Well, I'd rather continue to watch you eat them, but sure, I'll have some." _As long as she feeds them to me like that._

She moves to the bench beside him and lifts the bunch of grapes up for him, and he grabs three at once. "Thank you," he says, mouth full. She kisses him and takes another grape for herself.

"You've got something there," she points to his line.

"Hmm?" he was watching her again. "Oh! I do." She moves back to the other bench to allow him to bring in whatever he's got this time.

He brings in the fish, another perch, but larger this time. About eight inches.

"Appetizer," Gwen declares with a smirk.

"Hey, this one's big enough to keep. Sort of…"

"Sure, keep him. We'll have a nice dinner of trout and perch."

Just then the wind shifts and picks up noticeably.

"We'd better get back," Arthur says, stringing his fish on the nylon rope along with Guinevere's. He pulls the anchor up and fires up the motor.

"Hope it's not too bad a storm. The power goes out pretty easily around here. Might make it difficult to cook dinner."

Gwen ponders this a minute. "In that case, we should bring in a bunch of firewood when we get back."

"Firewood?"

"Yes. I believe there is at least one fireplace in that cottage, yes?"

"You're going to cook on the fire?"

"If I need to, I can. No big deal," she shrugs dismissively, making a grab for her hat when it almost blows off.

_Never ceases to amaze me,_ he thinks.

By the time they get back to the cottage, the ominous clouds are closer and threatening, and the temperature has dropped noticably. Inside the boathouse, they quickly unload the gear and secure the boat.

"Guinevere, in that cabinet over there," he points to a small cabinet behind her, in a far corner, "is a knife and a fish scaler. Would you get them for me so I can clean these stupid things?"

"Of course," she laughs, and walks to the cabinet. She opens the door, and when she does so, an old shoe box on the top comes dislodged and starts to fall. She grabs it quickly before the contents spill everywhere. There is a thick layer of dust on the top of the box. She holds it in one hand and grabs the tools with the other.

"What have you got there?" Arthur asks, hearing the commotion.

"This box fell from the top of the cabinet when I opened the door." She holds it out for him to see.

"What's inside?"

"I don't know. Can I look?"

"Yeah."

She opens the lid and sees a stack of envelopes with hand-written addresses on them in a soft, flowing feminine hand. Next to these is a small pile of photos. She gasps.

"What is it?" he asks, stepping through the boat to come closer and see.

"I don't think your father burned everything," she whispers.

Arthur peeks inside the box. _Letters. From my mother to my father. Wedding pictures._

He gently takes the box from her and closes the lid. "We'll bring this inside," he says softly, placing a kiss on her cheek. He picks up the fish with his other hand and they go inside.


	45. Chapter 45

Arthur manages to bring in more than enough firewood just before the skies open up.

"Just made it," he says, dropping the box in the parlor, near the large fireplace.

Guinevere is in the kitchen, putting things away and cleaning things up. Except the fish, which are Arthur's responsibility. He strolls into the kitchen and slides his arms around her waist, kissing her shoulder, then the space on the back of her neck between her ponytails.

"Those fish aren't going to clean themselves, mister," she chides; ignoring the flutter his kisses are sending through her body. Ignoring them for the moment, anyway.

He looks over at the shoebox. She sees this, turns in his arms and says gently, "That will keep. The fish will not, love." She places a hand on his cheek and kisses him sweetly on the lips, knowing his curiosity is killing him.

"I know," he drops his forehead and rests it on hers. He sighs. "It won't take that long to do these two fish."

As he spreads newspapers down on the counter, Gwen starts rummaging around the kitchen, seeing what she can find to have with the fish. _Potatoes. Definitely. Those are easily cooked over the fire if need be. Hmm… Fridge. Ah, a lemon, good. Any vegetables in here? Bag of prepared salad; that'll do._ She moves to look through some drawers and cupboards. _Foil, foil, foil… ah, good, here it is. Will need that if I'm cooking on the fireplace._

Thunder rolls across the sky outside, sounding like a large boulder rolling through the attic, from one side to the other. Gwen looks up and follows the sound. _That was a big one._

"Getting hungry for lunch at all, Arthur?" she asks, returning to the pantry cupboard.

He turns and holds a handful of fish innards aloft. "Hmm, tasty," he raises his eyebrows impishly.

"Lovely," she rolls her eyes, and he drops the entrails on the newspaper.

"Yeah, I could do with a spot of lunch. Anything worth having in there?"

She looks in, says, "Ooo…" and withdraws a box of macaroni and cheese. "Yum."

"Seriously? You, the gourmet cook?"

"I love this rubbish," she grins, closing the cupboard door. "I do make a mean baked homemade variety, too, though."

Gwen bends over to find a saucepan in which to boil the water for the macaroni. Arthur, distracted by the view, slips with the knife and nicks his thumb.

"Ah!" he hisses.

"What did you do?" she asks, straightening and setting the pot down.

"Just cut myself. A little."

She grabs a paper napkin and walks over to him, taking his hand and looking.

"Yeah, just a little one. Clean, too," she says, pressing the napkin to it.

"There are some bandages in the bathroom," he tells her. "Would you get one for me?"

_Men are such babies,_ she thinks, but says, "Sure. Keep holding that tight; it'll help stop the bleeding."

He looks at her with a look that says _excuse me, but what do I do for a living?_ She laughs and goes to find a bandage.

She returns and patches him up, gives him a kiss, and tells him, "You still have to finish cleaning the fish."

He scowls, saying, "Next time I'll have to remove the entire thumb." She swats him playfully on the rear and goes back to making lunch.

"Let's take our bowls and this box and go out to the conservatory," Arthur suggests. "It's mostly windows out there, and we can watch the storm."

He tucks the box under his arm, picks up his bowl and his drink and follows Guinevere back to the conservatory, where they sit at a small table together.

"All we need are some cut-up frankfurters mixed in and cartoons on the telly and we could relive our childhood," he jokes.

She laughs, "Oh, God, everyone did that, didn't they? With the hot dogs?"

Arthur opens the box and Gwen takes a few bites, letting him decide how to proceed. He lifts out the stack of letters and looks at them.

Lightning flashes outside, illuminating the glass room as if someone had just taken a photo with a giant camera. Seconds later there is a loud crack of thunder. Arthur looks up for a moment, then back to the letters.

"They're in order. Chronologically."

"Are you going to read them?" she asks.

He looks up, eyes wide. "Good God, no! That would be… I… don't want to infringe… It's _private,_" he finally decides.

Gwen smiles, understanding. _He doesn't want to risk reading anything_ suggestive _that his mother may have written._ She leans over, looking as he flips through them.

"Look at the postmarks, Arthur. She was all over. What did your mother do for work?"

"She was a nurse," he says. "I think she used to travel to poor areas of the world to help provide health care. Checkups, immunizations, that kind of thing. Maybe. She must have written these when she was doing that."

"Fascinating," Gwen says as Arthur puts the letters back into the box. He pauses to eat some of his lunch.

"Mmm. This is the best macaroni and cheese I've ever had," he teases.

"I slaved over it, you know."

More lightning. The thunder follows faster this time. A gust of wind blows the rain hard against the windows.

"That one was close," he says, not looking up from his bowl. He looks in the box, frowning for a moment.

_He's afraid to look at the pictures, _Gwen realizes.

Putting her hand on his arm, she says softly, "We'll finish eating, then look at the pictures together. Okay?"

He smiles slightly and nods. _She's reading my mind again._

They finish eating in a comfortable silence, the only sound coming from the rain hammering on the windows and the occasional crack of thunder. Guinevere takes the bowls back to the kitchen for a rinse.

When she returns she finds Arthur sitting on a sofa near the window. He pats the seat cushion next to him and she sits, curling up beside him. He is holding the photos in his hand. The top one is of his parents, standing at the front of the church, a basic wedding photo that any married couple would have.

"What are you afraid of, love?" she asks him quietly.

He actually chuckles. "It's totally silly and probably not at all what you think," he says.

"What?"

"Well, these were hidden for a reason, weren't they? I mean, what if there are… _naughty_ photos in here? I've already been damaged enough being raised by my heartbroken father, I don't need to be traumatized further."

She smiles, and gently takes the stack from him. She quickly flips through the photos, eyes scanning for anything _objectionable._ Finding nothing, she hands it back to him.

"I think the most you'll see is your mother's leg when they remove the garter during the reception. They look like basic wedding pictures, not wedding _night_ pictures," she can't resist needling him just a little.

He goes to the next picture. Another basic wedding shot, with a tiny elderly lady in the shot as well.

"That's my Gran," he points. "She died when I was 18. Really hung in there, though, she was ancient."

"She's cute," Gwen says. "No other grandparents?"

"My granddad and my mother's parents all died before my parents were married."

"Wow," she says. _That's a lot of death._

"It's a lot of dead people, I know," he says, voicing her thought. He gives her half a smile. "Granddad was a heavy smoker. Emphysema did him in. My mother's dad died in a factory accident when she was very young. Her mum got ovarian cancer. I only know this because I wanted to know if I had any, you know, health issues that I might've inherited from them."

"Smart."

"Merlin's idea, actually, while he was in nursing school," he admits. Another bolt of lightning shoots across the sky, and this one they actually see.

"Nice one," Gwen says, just before the accompanying thunder interrupts. Arthur looks at her and places his hand on her cheek for just a moment, kissing her briefly before turning his attention back to the photos.

He flips through them, stopping at one of his mother with a laughing dark-haired man with his arm around her shoulders.

"My Uncle Andrew," he says. "He lives in southern France now. We never hear from him."

"That's too bad," Gwen says. _At least we don't have to add him to the Family Body Count._

"Not really. He's a total prat. Pompous, overbearing, opinionated. France can keep him."

"Look how beautiful your mother was," Gwen takes the picture from him and holds it up. "Every woman looks beautiful on her wedding day, but you can really see the joy in her."

He takes the picture back and touches his mother's smiling face with his thumb.

"You have her smile," Gwen says. "And your eyes are the same blue as hers, exactly."

He goes to the next photos, random shots of the reception. People eating. People dancing. Uther dancing with his mother, very sweet. Arthur's parents dancing, staring into each other's eyes, holding each other close.

"I can't get used to seeing my father like this," he says, pausing on a close shot of their two faces gazing at one another, similar to the other photo they found earlier.

"You do realize you'll have to give these back to him, don't you?" she asks.

"What? I was just going to put the box back in the boathouse!"

"Don't you dare! This is the perfect opportunity for you to have a serious chat with your father. You deserve to know about your mother, Arthur. Keeping her from you because of his own grief is selfish of him and unfair to you. It's time he come out of hiding and be a man about this. And you're the one who's going to have to drag him out."

He stares at her. _Damn it, she's right. Again._ "You know, your tendency to always be right is going to get irritating after a while," he says. "But you are right. I really want to know about her. It's like she _haunts_ me. But how can I be haunted by someone I've never met?"

"That's exactly why you need to talk to him."

"I know," he looks down at the photo in his hands.

"When we get home, would you call your father and set up a dinner with him, just the two of you?"

"And ambush him?"

"I don't know if 'ambush' is _exactly_ the word I'd use, but basically, yes. Have a nice talk with him. Try to draw him out. It'll be good for both of you," she wraps her arm around his waist, leaning her head on his shoulder.

"Okay."

"Promise?"

"I promise," he leans down and kisses her just as another flash of lightning illuminates the prematurely darkening sky.

He flips to the next photo. It's the garter picture, and since his father is in the process of removing it from her leg with his teeth, Arthur quickly flips past it, making Gwen laugh.

"Lovely; Uncle Andrew caught it. Ick: catching your sister's garter." He makes a face.

"Who is that that caught the bouquet?" Gwen asks when they see the next photo.

He looks close. "I don't know. Appears to be a bridesmaid, but I don't know who that is. Probably a school chum or coworker of Mum's, I would guess. Poor girl; she probably got groped by Andrew during the dance," he laughs.

There are a few more random shots of the reception, then the top photo appears again. "That's all of them," he says, and goes to return them to the box.

"What's this?" he sees one more item in the bottom of the box. A newspaper clipping, folded and slightly yellowed. He opens it.

**Intoxicated Motorist Kills Pregnant Nurse**

_LONDON – Yvette Pendragon (nee Matthews), 25, was killed early Thursday morning on the A5 Motorway when her car was struck by another motorist, believed to be intoxicated at the time. Rebecca Nimueh, 32, also of London, did not yield to posted signs and collided with Mrs. Pendragon's vehicle on the driver's side._

_Mrs. Pendragon did not survive her injuries, but her unborn child was delivered safely in the emergency room. Her husband, Uther Pendragon, and their newborn son survive her._

_Ms. Nimueh suffered a broken wrist and several scratches and bruises. She was taken into custody by police inspectors and is awaiting charges._

"Was she charged? Did she go to prison?" Gwen asks.

"Yes, to both. No idea where she is now. Really don't care, honestly." He wipes at his eyes with the back of his hand, folds the article and replaces it in the box, putting the photos back on top.

Arthur puts the lid back on the box and sets it on the table nearby. He then turns to Guinevere and pulls her to him, into his lap, wrapping his arms around her tightly. She rests her head against him as he buries his face into the side of her neck, apparently his favorite place to be.

She lets him hold her, knowing that's what he needs right now. She strokes his hair with one hand and wraps her arm around his ribs with the other, closing her eyes. There is another flash of lightning that she can sense through her closed eyelids, followed immediately by a very loud crack of thunder.

The power goes out.


	46. Chapter 46

"Told you so," Arthur whispers into her neck.

"I didn't doubt you," she tells him, still running her fingers through his hair.

He straightens up and looks at her, his face still sad. "That news article just makes it so… _real,_ you know? Not that I didn't think it wasn't real, but actually seeing it documented in black and white, so detached like that, as if she wasn't the love of someone's life, wasn't someone's mother…"

"Shh, love," she gently pulls his head back down to her shoulder, kissing his head.

They sit there a few more moments, holding each other in the dim light as the storm rages outside.

"Arthur?" she finally says.

"Hmm?"

"You smell like fish." She kisses his head again.

"Oh!" he says, lifting his head, feigning a look of hurt. "And I suppose you don't?" He leans back in and sniffs her, making a great show of it, sniffing everywhere he can find as Gwen descends into a fit of giggles.

"Hmm. You don't. That's hardly fair," he pouts.

"Yes, well, I wasn't the one swinging fish guts around the kitchen, either," she laughs.

"So are you suggesting that I shower?"

"Probably couldn't hurt. And I'd go now if I were you."

"I'm _that_ bad?"

"No, you'll want to take advantage while there's still hot water. With the power out and all, you know."

"Good point." He helps her out of his lap, and stands. Before she can walk away he pulls her to him for a great hug, completely surrounding her.

"Thank you," he whispers to her. _For making me confront this, for being here, for making me laugh when it was time._

"You're welcome," a muffled voice comes from the vicinity of his chest. He loosens his grip enough to bend down to kiss her, a soft, longing kiss, his way of saying the words that he isn't always able to form. One hand slides up to touch the bare skin on the top of her back, to her shoulder, the other hand around her waist.

He breaks the kiss, and with a last, "I love you," he goes to shower the fish smell away. Gwen picks up the box and follows, placing it on a side table in the bedroom so they don't forget to bring it along when they leave tomorrow.

_Dining room? Too formal. Kitchen? Not intimate enough._ Gwen wanders the house, formulating plans for the evening. And lighting candles, as it isn't getting any brighter out and soon it will be evening. _The days are getting shorter already._ She enters the parlor.

_Hmm. That table will do nicely. Just need to move a few things._ She goes to a low, wide rectangular table in front of a sofa and pulls it into the center of the room. There is a large shallow bowl in the center of the table with some artificial lemons in it that she removes to a side table.

_Pillows._ She turns and takes some throw pillows from the furniture and puts them on the floor on two sides of the table before going in search of table linens.

She goes to a hallway closet. _Nope. Not here._ She hears the shower turn off, so she walks to the bedroom.

"Do you know where I might find a tablecloth?" she asks as he emerges with a towel wrapped around his waist.

"Here," he removes the towel and hands it to her.

"Very funny," she says, not taking the towel and stubbornly _not_ looking anywhere but his face.

"Try the sideboard in the dining room."

"Oh yeah, silly me." She turns and walks out, but not before noticing Arthur's pout at her lack of reaction to his behavior. She grins once she's out of sight.

Gwen sets the table for two, places some candles on it, and steps back. _Candles don't match, but who cares? Not like he'll notice._

As she exits the room, something catches her eye. It looks like another sideboard, but there is a power cord coming out of the back of it. She goes in for a closer inspection, and finds that it's actually an old hi-fi record player console, complete with a large collection of record albums.

"No way," she mumbles, and starts flipping through the records.

"That was my Gran's," Arthur says from the doorway.

"Does it work?" she asks.

"Not a the moment, but when there is electricity, it does. At least it did last we checked."

"Your Gran had quite the collection here. Bach, Beethoven, Beethoven, Chopin, Haydn, Holst, Liszt," she pauses, looking up with a smile. "They're alphabetized." Arthur laughs at the fact that Gwen seems pleased by this as she continues. "Mozart, Mozart, Mozart, Mozart, Mozart, Prokofieff, Schumann – Robert _and_ Clara, Strauss, Stravinsky, Tchaikovsky, Wagner. Wow."

"Gran was a concert pianist."

"Did she give you lessons?" she asks, remembering that he used to play.

"No, she was away a lot," he says. "But she arranged for me to have them and even paid for them."

_Clearly his grandmother was someone special,_ Gwen thinks, smiling.

"There should be more yet in there," he says, stepping closer.

"Yes, there's a divider and another stack. Oh! Louis Armstrong, Tony Bennett, John Coltrane, Duke Ellington, Ella Fitzgerald, Benny Goodman, Lionel Hampton, Antonio Carlos Jobim, Dean Martin, Glenn Miller, Bud Powell, Frank Sinatra, Mel Tormé. Your Gran had some taste." _I wish the power were on._

She sighs and slides the lid closed. "Do you think you can handle getting a fire started for me while I prep dinner?"

"Already?"

"Yes, it needs to be nice and hot with enough coals for me to cook on."

"Yeah, I can do that."

She kisses him. "If you need help, let me know," she teases.

"I'll just throw some petrol on it," he kisses her back.

"Don't you dare. You smell good now, don't ruin it." She kisses him a final time and walks away before he can persuade her to stay longer.

They dine by candlelight, sitting on the floor at the low table. Gwen has changed into Capri pants and has put a short-sleeved blouse on like a light jacket over her tank top, and her hair is now loose. The change in the weather has caused a drop in temperature, but the storm is winding down. Every now and then they hear a distant rumble of thunder, and the rain has slowed some.

"So if everything is in foil pouches, how do you know when it's done?" Arthur asks, peering at the perfectly-cooked bite of fish on the end of his fork.

"Well, I do open them and look periodically, you know. I'm not a magician," she chuckles.

"You are to me," he says. "The things you do constantly amaze me. I mean, how lucky am I to find a woman who can not only cook fish this good but it also willing to go out and _catch_ said fish?"

"You are very lucky," she smiles impishly at him. He picks up her hand and kisses it.

"And you are very beautiful," he tells her, enjoying how the light from the candles and the fireplace glints warmly on her skin and reflects gold in her eyes. He kisses her hand again before releasing it to take a drink.

"I wish the power were on," Gwen says.

"I don't. I'm rather enjoying this," Arthur says.

"No, what I mean is if we had electricity, then we could have some music while we eat."

"I could sing for you again," he laughs.

"Um, no, that's all right," she joins his laughter.

"I was thinking," Arthur begins after a minute.

"Yes?"

"About having dinner with my father. He usually goes to his club on Wednesday nights for dinner. I'll see if he wants some company."

"Sounds like a plan."

"I mean, I know I'm just getting off work that day and it's not exactly fair to abandon you for dinner…"

"No, this is important. I think I'll survive. Besides, I'll be waiting for you when you get home."

He smiles. "Always something to look forward to. And I'll come have lunch with you for sure, then."

"I think it's brilliant, going to his territory. He'll be comfortable, and since it's _his_ club and there will be people around, he'll be less likely to make a scene if he gets agitated."

"My thoughts exactly." He takes a bite of potato. "These potatoes are really good, too, by the way."

"Thank you. It's all very simple cooking; don't be so impressed. Campfire food. Even you could manage it, probably."

He laughs again, and the power suddenly snaps back on. They look around, blinking, forks paused mid-air, mouths open.

Arthur shrugs. "No lights on in here anyway," he says, continuing to eat.

Gwen stands and goes to the record player. She flips through the albums and decides on Frank Sinatra.

"Need any help?" Arthur asks.

"No, I've got it," she says, and the music starts. She adjusts the volume down. "Too loud? Too soft?"

"Nope, it's fine, love."

She walks back to the table, pausing to throw another log into the fireplace, and sits back down.

"Happy now?" he asks.

"Yes," she smiles at him, content that the final piece of the romantic atmosphere is in place.

"We have a whole room full of records in the basement of the library," she tells him, setting her fork down. "No one is interested in them anymore, so they sit."

"That's really too bad. Couldn't you find a collector or something?"

She shakes her head. "We tried. Collectors only want albums in pristine condition, not ones that have been handled and mishandled by careless library patrons."

Arthur finishes as well, and Gwen stands to clear the plates. He stands to help her, and the song changes on the record. _Strangers in the Night._

He listens a minute. _This is a good song, _he thinks. He takes the plates out of Guinevere's hands and sets them back down on the table.

"Arthur, what…?" Gwen asks, as Arthur pulls her into his arms.

He takes her hands and puts them up around his neck. "Would you like to dance?" he asks softly in her ear, the exact same thing he said to her when they first danced.

She smiles, his warm lips and breath on her ear sending shivers down her spine. They dance slowly to the music, completely absorbed in one another, much like they were that first night.

Her fingers once again find their way into the hair at the base of his skull. His hands once again rove around, this time more boldly, sliding up underneath the back of her blouse so he can feel her skin under his fingers.

She leans closer and turns her head, resting her cheek on his chest and closing her eyes, trusting him to keep her upright. _I can hear his heart beating. _Her shoulders start to ache slightly, and she slides her hands down his chest and threads them under his arms and around his back. One of his hands wanders down to rest on her backside and he rests his head on top of hers.

_There is no world outside of this room._

As the song ends and the next song (_That's Life_, which is hardly romantic) begins, Gwen realizes that they haven't really been dancing for the last couple minutes so much as they've been standing still and holding each other. _That's okay, too._

"You were supposed to be being compliant to _my_ will this evening, you know," she reminds him, smiling against his chest.

"One little dance doesn't count," he says, kissing her hair.

She leans back and kisses the hollow between his collarbones, touching her tongue to his skin briefly as she does so. He sighs and closes his eyes.

"I'll clean this up, since you cooked," he declares. He bends down and kisses her on the lips before reluctantly releasing her from his arms.

_Perfect opportunity, _thinks Gwen. She goes to the stereo and takes the record off, puts it back in its sleeve and places it back exactly where she found it in the stack. Once Arthur is in the kitchen, she slips back to the bedroom.

**A/N: "Strangers in the Night" is a fantastic song whose lyrics are totally appropriate to Arthur and Gwen in this story. Look it up. Or at least look up the lyrics.**


	47. Chapter 47

"Dear God," Arthur declares breathlessly as he walks into the bedroom. Guinevere is lighting a few candles, willfully ignoring the fact that they once again have electricity.

"Hmm?" she asks, blowing out the match between her fingers as she turns to face him.

"Um…"

Gwen has changed into her little surprise. She didn't think it was anything much, but apparently Arthur is quite pleased. _He doesn't seem to be able to form words at the moment,_ she thinks. She cocks a hip to one side and places her hand on it, waiting.

A simple black negligee, short; ending just below her waist. There is a band of silver sequins just below her breasts, actually tastefully done, separating the flowing bottom half from the top. The top is low-cut and ties behind her neck, like a halter, leaving most of her back exposed. Arthur inclines his head and sees a matching black panty peeking out below the negligee. _Not a thong, but I'll definitely have to take a closer look._ He remembers the sight when he entered the room. _They must be that other kind she likes, but higher-cut in the back, because I got quite the view there._

Arthur blinks a few times and strides over to her. Gwen thinks he is going to grab her and kiss her, but he stops in front of her, still taking her in. He reaches a hand out towards her, placing his palm gently on her cheek, stroking it with his thumb.

"You take my breath away," he whispers to her. He slides his hand down and around to the back of her neck and gently pulls her face to his for a soft kiss, the kind she likes, the kind that makes her feel like the luckiest, most cherished woman in the world.

She pulls back from the kiss, her breathing heavy. "You take mine, too," she breathes.

He gazes down at her for a moment, and she asks him, "So you like it, then?" with a sly smile.

"You need to ask?" he answers her question with his own, pressing himself to her so she can feel his opinion of how she looks pressed against her stomach.

Chuckling, she leans up and kisses him again, reaching for his shirt and pulling it up over his chest. He breaks the kiss and helps her remove his shirt, then goes back to kissing her, wrapping his arms around her, feeling the slippery material of her nightie under his hands before raising one hand up to rest on the bare skin of her back, under her hair. He feels the tail of the strap tied around her neck brush against his hand, but mindful of what he promised that morning, he resists the urge to pull it loose.

Her hands, on his chest, slide down as they kiss, reaching for his shorts. She opens the fly and unzips them, and with a gentle nudge they fall to the ground, pooling around his feet.

Arthur stands, immobile, obedient, as Guinevere pulls away from him. She places her hands on his chest, sliding them downwards. He closes his eyes, relishing the feel of her soft fingers on his skin, burning deliciously, as he anticipates her next action.

Her hand drops to the waistband of his boxer briefs. She hooks her fingers just inside and uses the elastic to pull him over to the bed. His eyes open in surprise, and he cannot stop the grin from spreading across his face.

Guinevere turns him so his back is to the bed, and she releases his waistband with a [i]snap,[/i] making him jump slightly. Now it is her turn to grin as she returns her hands to his chest, her fingertips tickling his skin.

Arthur can't take it any longer, and he leans down to kiss her. He claims her lips with his own and starts to wrap his arms around her. Smiling into his lips, Gwen places her hands on his pectorals and suddenly pushes him backward, onto the bed.

"Oh!" he laughs in surprise. _I'm actually amazed she was able to do that,_ he thinks, _but she did catch me off guard._

She leans over him, finally removing his underwear. He closes his eyes again, feeling her hands slide up his calves, over his bent knees and up his thighs. She comes close to, but doesn't quite touch, the part of him that wants most to be touched.

"Guinevere…" he groans.

"Be quiet, you," she scolds.

Arthur opens his eyes and raises an eyebrow at her, and his is rewarded with a stern look from Gwen. He smiles and closes them again, leaning his head back. "Yes, ma'am."

She climbs up onto the bed, straddling his stomach. He reaches for her, his hands itching to touch, explore, but she catches his hands, kisses them and places them back on the bed.

"Behave."

_Oh my God, this is going to kill me._

She leans over and kisses him briefly, keeping her mouth closed. She rains soft, feather-light kisses on his cheeks, his forehead, his eyelids. She kisses the end of his nose, his chin, the side of his jaw. Leaning to one side, she takes his left earlobe into her mouth, flicking it with her tongue a few times, sucking on it and biting it gently before nibbling up the edge of his ear. She tickles the tender interior of his ear with her tongue for just a moment and feels goosebumps rise on his left arm under her hand.

Arthur's breathing is getting ragged and it is taking all his control not to flip her over onto her back, tear her clothes off and plow into her. He can feel her body against his, the unfamiliar sensation of the satin fabric sliding on his stomach, her warm and moist lower region occasionally brushing against his erection, teasing him.

Her tongue continues its tour of him, sliding it down behind and below his ear down his neck. Kisses and bites are interspersed with seductive licks from the tip of her tongue. She reaches his shoulder, sliding her lips across the broad muscles there, out to the edge and back in to his collarbone, where she gently sucks at the skin.

Arthur tries again to touch her. He lifts his hands, thinking she won't notice. She does, and she stops and _looks_ at him.

_Maybe I need permission._ "May I?" he asks.

She thinks a moment, deciding. "Yes, you may."

"Thank you."

She smiles at him and returns her lips to his chest, scooting further down, her groin now directly over his.

He places his hands on the exposed cheeks that he saw earlier, caressing the skin that first caught his attention when he entered the room. _She feels so good._

Gwen makes a contended noise in the back of her throat as she runs her tongue across his nipple, biting it gently and kissing it before moving across to the other.

Arthur bites his lower lip, her ministrations driving him mad with frustration and arousal. He moves his hands, carefully pressing his fingers into her center, outside her panties, noting their damp state as he does so. He smiles as she moans under his hands and does it again.

She slides further down and he can no longer reach her there, but his disappointment doesn't last long as she kisses down his stomach, once again dragging her tongue delicately down their muscled contours, smiling as she feels him jump.

Suddenly he feels her take him into her mouth, noting vaguely that she has done so without using her hands at all. _Finally._ Then, _Wow._

He groans again as she moves her mouth on him, sucking and stroking with her tongue, reaching between his legs to finally touch him with her hands, squeezing gently a few times before releasing him to run her hand along his thigh. Her other hand joins her mouth on his shaft, holding and stroking while she teases the tip with her mouth.

Arthur reaches down for her, tangling his hand in her hair, running it over her back. There is no reprimand, so he continues, reaching what he can, turning his hand to reach for her breast, over the fabric. He tries to slide his hand beneath it, and she brings one of her hands up and places it on his. _Okay, then,_ he thinks, and keeps his hand on the outside.

She swirls her tongue around the tip of his manhood a final time, releasing him with a [i]pop[/i] that makes him jump again. She leaves his lap and stands beside the bed, her hands on her hips, watching him as he watches her, a half smile playing on her lips.

_What is she thinking there?_ Arthur is not used to this stern Guinevere, and while he finds her actions very… _hot_… the fact that she's keeping him completely off balance is frustrating to him. And exciting.

"Sit up." Her voice is an intriguing combination of seductress and schoolteacher.

He does.

"You may undress me now, if you'd like."

_If I'd like?_ He jumps forward as if someone has jabbed him in the rear with a hot poker.

He stands in front of her, and she turns around, her back to him. He scowls (only because she can't see him), but obediently lifts her hair out of the way to untie the straps behind her neck. He sneaks a kiss on her neck as he does so.

"Arthur…" she warns.

"Sorry." He gently turns her back around, facing him again, and she lets him. He releases the ties and they fall down over her shoulders, exposing her breasts to him. His eyes drift down and his lips part, wanting so badly to plunge his face into her cleavage, to kiss and suck on her beautiful breasts until she can take no more. _But she won't let me. Unless, maybe, if I ask…_

His hands come up, almost of their own accord, almost touching, but not quite. Instead he takes the sequined band in his hands, the only thing holding up the top of the negligee, and lifts it carefully up over her head.

"Can I…" he begins.

"Not yet," she interrupts him, having seen the look on his face.

He sighs, his hands opening and closing in frustration at his sides. _She is too cruel,_ he thinks, then turns his attention to her knickers. _Like I thought. Just… smaller. Little more than a black rectangular band._

"I like them." He looks up at her face.

"Good." She rewards him with a kiss, her hands holding his face gently. This time she opens her mouth under his, still in control. Arthur places his hands on her hips, sliding his hands inside the waistband of her panties, starting to push them down and off.

She releases his lips so that he can remove her panties. He even goes so far as to gently lift each foot in turn to get them completely off. She allows him to kiss her feet as he does this.

_Somehow I knew she'd let me do that,_ he thinks, amused.

"Lay down on the bed." She motions with her head, indicating that he should lay down properly this time.

"Yes, ma'am."

She climbs up and straddles him once more, leaning down to kiss him again, this time deeply, achingly, pouring her soul into him, making him moan into her mouth. She has one hand supporting her and the other has a handful of his hair, pulling slightly, adding another layer of sensation.

She sits back, sliding herself along his length briefly as she does so, and looks down at him.

"You've been very obedient, Arthur."

"It hasn't been easy," he answers, his voice now slightly ragged. _That's an understatement. It's been damn near impossible._

"I know," she says, caressing his cheek. "It's time you were rewarded."

"What is my reward, my love?"

She ponders. "I'll let you off the hook. All restrictions are now lifted."

_Don't need to tell me a second time._ Without warning, Gwen finds herself on her back with Arthur's mouth on her breast and his hand between her legs.

"Oh! Arthur…" she gasps, grabbing his hair again, holding his head to her as he strokes her nipple with his tongue, teasing it into a hard nub with his teeth before biting it just hard enough to elicit another cry from her. He slips a finger into her, then back out and up along her folds, repeating this circuit a few times until she is writhing and moaning beneath him.

Her legs fall wider apart for him as his does this, and he kisses his way back up to her lips, parted and waiting for him.

"Now, Arthur. Please," she tells him, reaching for him with her hand, pulling him to her.

"Yes, ma'am," he says again, grinning like a fox who has just found his way into the chicken coop. His grin quickly turns into a look of ecstasy as he slides into her, her guidance barely needed.

A noise somewhere between a moan and a sigh escapes her lips as he enters her, and her back arches with need.

Arthur moves slowly at first, torturing them both by prolonging the contact, but he quickly finds that he can no longer hold back and his tempo increases. He thrusts, faster, harder, and his hand finds one of her breasts. He kneads it carefully, sliding his palm over the already-aroused tip, the friction there a sweet burning torment.

"Oh, God… More, Arthur…"

_More?_ He increases the intensity of his thrusts, hammering into her as hard as he dares, and he bends to kiss her. Trying to maintain both is difficult, so the kiss doesn't last long. His hand at her breast squeezes a little harder, and he pinches her nipple a little harder.

"Yes…"

Arthur is past all thought as well as his climax is coming on and he doesn't think he'll be able to hold it off. Thankfully, Gwen seems close to the edge herself, her head tossing from side to side on the pillow, mouth open, gasping. She grabs his shoulders, digging her nails in and crying out just as Arthur pushes into her as deep as he can, releasing himself into her with a great growl.

He collapses onto her, completely spent.

"Oof," she says.

"Sorry," he mumbles into her neck and starts to roll off of her.

She squeezes him with her arms and legs. "No, don't move."

He settles back down, snuggling his face into her neck, a smile plastered on his face.

"That was so hot," he says after a time, making her giggle.

"Okay, you can move now," she tells him, and he rolls them to their sides, withdrawing himself from her in the process.

"I love you so much, Guinevere."

"I love you, Arthur," she tells him, and he kisses her for a minute or two. They are starting to feel a bit drowsy, and settle into the bed a bit deeper.

"What was that all about?" he finally asks, after they've cuddled under the covers.

"You gave me the idea. 'I promise I will be completely compliant to your will tonight,'" she quotes him back to himself.

"I guess I didn't think about the potential consequences of my words," he chuckles.

"I do believe I heard you say something about loving it when I tell you what to do as well," she reminds him.

"Well, that was in the middle of, well, you know. One can't always be held accountable for things said in a fit of passion," he teases.

"So, you _didn't_ enjoy yourself, then?" she asks, knowing full well what the answer will be.

"Well, I'm not saying that you should progress into being a full-on dominatrix, but yes, I did enjoy it. Very much." He kisses her again.

"You are very used to being in control, aren't you?" she smirks at him.

"Mm-hmm," he nods. "Which is probably why _not_ being in control was so…"

"Exciting?"

"That's a good word for it." He grins at her. "Just don't expect to be able to get away with that all the time, though."

"Wouldn't dream of it. It wasn't exactly easy for me, either."

"Really?"

"Well, sure. I had to do all the work!" she laughs. "Seriously, though, that was the first time I've done anything like that."

Now it is Arthur's turn to laugh. "Well, you were very much the stern but naughty librarian, and I loved it." He pulls her to him and kisses her again, lingering and tasting her lips until he feels something start to stir within him once again.

"Arthur," she gasps, trying to speak, but he keeps kissing her, "you… we just… oh… mm… okay…" She gives in.


	48. Chapter 48

MONDAY

"I see what you mean about the gardens," Gwen says as they walk up the path to Roger and Lorraine's house. They'd packed up and closed up the house already and drove the short distance to drop off the keys on their way back to London.

Arthur rings the bell, reaching for Gwen's hand as they wait. No one comes to the door.

"I know she's home," he says, pulling Gwen off the porch onto the lawn as he starts to walk around to the back garden. "She's probably back here."

They come around the corner of the house and Gwen spies a large sunhat bobbing amidst the rosebushes.

Lorraine's back is to them, so Arthur calls, "Any strawberries for me to eat?"

"Oh!" the older woman stands and turns. "Arthur! How are you, darling?" She picks her way out of the rosebushes as Arthur and Gwen continue to walk towards her.

Lorraine pulls her gloves off and drops them in a plastic bucket she passes and reaches out to Arthur, pulling him to her matronly frame for a large hug.

"So nice to see you," Arthur tells her, hugging her back. "Lorraine, this is my fiancée, Guinevere," he introduces her.

"Gwen," Gwen says, taking the woman's outstretched hand in hers.

"So nice to meet you. I've heard something of you from my Roger. How is your head, dear?"

"Much better, thank you very much," she smiles at the woman.

"Arthur, she's just lovely," Lorraine tells him, her frank openness making Gwen blush slightly.

"Yes, she is, and I'm glad you think so," Arthur says.

"Well. I suppose you two are back to London this morning, yes?" she asks. Then she adds, "Please, come sit a minute," and leads them to some wrought iron chairs on a brick patio.

"Unfortunately, yes, we both have to get back to real life and work again. But first I had to come visit you. And return the key," Arthur says, sitting.

"Yes, of course. So Gwen, what is it you do?"

"I'm a librarian," she tells her.

"Very interesting," Lorraine says. "Are you getting this one to read some?" she asks, indicating Arthur.

"Yes, she is," Arthur answers. "It's actually enjoyable when it's not for school; when no one is telling me _what_ I should read and _when_."

"I told him that many times," Lorraine says conspiratorially to Gwen, who laughs.

"And Gwen is being modest. She's the head librarian, in fact."

"Which is really nothing to brag about," Gwen adds.

Lorraine smiles at the young couple, noticing how happy they are. _I've never seen Arthur so happy like this,_ she thinks, and it warms her heart.

"When is the wedding?" she asks.

"October 20," Arthur answers, pleased with himself for remembering the date. "And of course you'll be receiving an invite."

"I'll put it down in my diary immediately. Where will it be?"

"The Manor."

"Oh, now, that will be lovely."

"We're hoping so," Gwen says.

Lorraine sighs. "Well, I shan't keep you. Oh! Arthur, I _know_ you want some jam. Wait a moment and I'll just run and grab you a few jars."

"Thank you, Lorraine. Oh, hang on," he says, and digs the key out of his pocket and hands it to her. "So you can put it inside right away."

The woman smiles at him and heads to the house, calling back, "Feel free to pick some treats from the garden, dears."

"Treats?" Gwen asks, amused at this charming and warm woman who obviously loves Arthur very much.

He rolls his eyes, but not unkindly. "Yeah. Vegetable garden. We'd better go look for anything needing harvesting or she'll be insulted."

Gwen laughs and follows him to a sunny spot containing a large patch of vegetables, flanked by some raspberry bushes and a row of strawberries on one side.

"Holy cow," Gwen says.

"Yes."

They find two cucumbers, four tomatoes, a handful of strawberries (half of which Arthur eats immediately), a green pepper, a red pepper, and several fat peapods. Lorraine comes striding back to them with a full bag and an empty bag in her hands. She hands Gwen the empty bag for the produce they've picked, and the full bag goes to Arthur.

He inspects the contents immediately, earning him a sideways look from Gwen and a laugh from Lorraine, who honestly would have been disappointed if he didn't behave like a small child at Christmas.

Arthur crouches on the ground and withdraws two jars of strawberry jam, two jars of marmalade, one jar of pickles, and a loaf of zucchini bread.

"You've been busy," he smiles, repacking the bag and standing.

"Now, you make good use of those vegetables, now," she warns him.

"Not to worry, madam, Gwen is an _excellent_ cook and she is making sure I get my veggies," he promises her.

"Good girl," Lorraine nods her approval in Guinevere's direction.

"All right, come here, love," Lorraine pulls Arthur to her. They hug again and Arthur gives her a kiss on the cheek as well.

"Take care," he tells her.

Gwen steps forward, saying, "It was very nice to meet you, Lorraine," and holds out her hand.

"Oh, no you don't," Lorraine says and wraps the younger woman in her soft embrace. "Take care of him. He is very special," she whispers in Gwen's ear.

"I know," Gwen softly says back.

As Arthur and Gwen walk back to the car with their parcels, Arthur asks, "What did she say to you?"

"Hmm?"

"When she hugged you. She whispered something to you."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Gwen says, smirking.

"Guinevere!" he exclaims, amused but frustrated. All she's doing is making him more curious.

"You're nothing but a nosy old lady, you know that?"

"She said something, and you answered her. I _saw_ you," he goads, opening the door of the car for her.

She climbs in, laughing. He takes his seat and looks at her. "Well?"

"She told me to be good to you or she'd arrange to have my kneecaps broken."

"She did not!"

"No." Gwen is enjoying herself now.

"Guinevere…" he tries saying her name the way that usually gets him his way.

She leans over and kisses him. "She told me to take care of you and that you are very special," she says softly to him. "And I didn't just tell you that because you turned my insides to pudding saying my name."

He grins. "Sure, you didn't."

They arrive back at their flat shortly after eleven.

"I guess this means I have to go to work on time," Arthur says. "However, they don't _know_ I'm back yet…"

"Tempting though that is, we both know that you're too honest to follow through with that thought."

He sighs. "True."

Just then his phone rings. It's not Merlin; the ring is different. The tune coming from his phone this time is _The Imperial March,_ Darth Vader's theme from _Star Wars._

Gwen looks at him, puzzled.

"Father," Arthur explains. Gwen laughs loudly, clapping her hand over her mouth as Arthur answers.

"Hello."

Gwen goes about unpacking, trying not to look like she's listening to their conversation.

"Very good. We had a wonderful time. Charlie and Roger both say hello. Oh, and Gwen almost drowned, but she's okay."

"Yes, there. She hit her head. Well, _obviously_ I did. _Yes,_ she's fine." He sighs. "Gwen, you're fine, right?" He holds the phone out.

"Yes, I'm fine, no need to worry," she shouts.

"There. Satisfied? Good."

"Yes. _Yes,_ I did." He rolls his eyes.

_Must be making sure Arthur left the house in order,_ Gwen thinks.

"No, I wanted to ask you something. You still go to the club Wednesdays for dinner?"

"Would you like some company?"

"No, just me."

"Just to have dinner with you." He looks at Guinevere, his eyes pleading. _Help._ She nods encouragingly.

"Well, actually I want to talk to you a bit, someplace where you won't be distracted by work." He looks at Gwen again, and she nods again, giving him a thumbs-up.

"Father, I have to get going to work. I'll see you Wednesday. Seven? Okay. 'Bye."

"He never would have bought that I just wanted to spend quality time with him," he says to Gwen, changing into his work clothes.

"I know. You said enough. It's delicate, I know. But he knows you want to talk to him, even if he doesn't know what about."

"And now he'll be stewing for two days, wondering what I could possibly wish to discuss with him."

"Do you think he'll figure it out?"

"Possible."

She pulls the photo out of the side pocket of her suitcase and sets it on the wardrobe.

"So what will you do with the rest of your day?" he asks her.

She looks at the hamper, now overflowing. "Laundry," she sighs. "I may stop in and say hello to Morgana. Maybe meet her for lunch. And I think I need to call Cedric and get a status update on the dress. Haven't heard from him in a bit."

"Surely there's still plenty of time for that. How long does it take to make one dress?" Arthur asks, tying his shoes.

"That's why I'm going to call him. He may need to do some fittings." She looks at the photo. "I might take that in as well to get restored."

"Ah. Good." Then he frowns. "Well, my love, I had better go and see what mayhem Leon has gotten the lads into."

"So Leon was in charge in your absence?" she asks as he walks to her to kiss her goodbye.

"Yes, he's next senior after me. He wants and deserves a promotion, and I figured this would be a good way to test him, I guess, to see if he's truly ready." He wraps his arms around her, looking down at her. "Unfortunately that means he'd move to a different crew and shift, but it would be unfair of me to hold him back just because I like the guy."

Gwen smiles at him. _He's such a good man,_ she thinks. "That's really good of you," she tells him, leaning up to kiss him.

He leans down, deepening the kiss, telling her how much he doesn't want to leave her. His hands slide on her back, one traveling up to hold her head as he leans further into her, the other wrapping around her waist to support her. His tongue presses against hers, caressing it, as they kiss each other until they are both slightly dazed.

Gwen pulls away first, reluctantly. "Go to work," she whispers. "Be safe. I love you."

"I love you, too. See you Wednesday." He kisses her one more time before tearing himself away to go off to work.

"He did _what?_" Morgana about chokes on her bite of salad as Guinevere gives her highlights from their weekend. Currently she is describing their encounter with Sophia and her elderly husband.

"I _know!_ I was so mad at him."

"Even after saving your life and giving you that _gorgeous_ necklace? I am going to kill him. He is _so_ dead."

"Morgana, no. It's fine. We worked it all out. He recognized that he was a total ass and has more than made up for it."

"You didn't give in immediately, did you?" Morgana asks, knowing her friend's mild and forgiving nature and dreading the worst.

"Oh, God, no." She smiles. "I locked him out of the bathroom."

"So?"

"I was taking a bubble bath at the time."

"_Nice._" Morgana grins. Then she angles her head, looking at Gwen.

"What?"

"Come back to the salon with me after lunch. You need a trim."

"I was going to go over to the jeweler, but I suppose I can pencil you in before I go there," she teases.

"Going to look at a wedding band for Arthur?"

"Yes. Oh, speaking of which, have you seen Cedric lately?"

"Oh, yes, sorry! He was in just Friday. You're supposed to call him for a fitting."

"He lives!" Wayne exclaims as Arthur strolls into the firehouse.

"Yes, she didn't do me in just yet," he says casually. "Not that I didn't deserve it at one point," he mutters as he walks past Merlin, who stands and follows him up to the bunkroom to drop his things.

"What did you do?" Merlin asks, his tone accusatory.

"We ran into Sophia."

"No."

"And… I was _nice_ to her."

"_No!_ Arthur…"

"I was in shock, Merls. We were having a lovely dinner, actually having a very good time tormenting her across the dining room—"

"And how exactly did you do that?" Merlin asks. "Wait, I don't think I want to know."

"_Anyway,_ she intercepted us on the way out and I was taken quite by surprise, and…"

"You couldn't treat her the way she deserved to be treated after what she did to you." Merlin finishes Arthur's sentence.

"Right."

"Coward."

"That's what she called me! A coward! And a hypocrite!"

"Yes, that too," Merlin agrees, knowing full well about their accidental meeting with Lance.

"Merlin! You're supposed to be my friend!" Arthur complains.

"I [_am_ being your friend, Cabbage Head. I'm agreeing that you were a jerk. If I wasn't your friend I wouldn't be so honest."

Arthur scowls. _Now I have two people that are always right to have to deal with._

"I take it she forgave you, though. I don't see any visible lacerations or contusions…" Merlin inclines his head, giving Arthur a mock inspection.

"Eventually," Arthur says, then remembers the morning after and a dirty grin crosses his face.

"Don't want to know," Merlin says again. "So what else happened?"

"Well, I got to help eject a large brute from a pub because he clumsily tried to chat up Gwen and almost assaulted her."

"What?"

"And then she slipped on some rocks in the stream, right in that spot where it gets deep,"

"Oh, no…"

"Oh, yes. She hit her head and knocked herself out in the process. I had to pull her out of the water and administer CPR."

"Oh my God, Arthur! Is she okay?"

"Yes, she's fine. I even had Roger check her for concussion."

"Good man." Merlin's brow unfurrows, and he asks, "Was that before or after you were an ass?"

"Before."

"So did anything _good _happen?"

"Believe it or not, we actually had a really good time. We didn't want to come back."

"Doesn't sound that way…" Merlin is skeptical.

"No, mate, honest. We're… closer than ever, actually. And she's quite the fisherman, that's for sure."

Gwen goes to the jeweler after finishing with Morgana, her hair now trimmed neatly, giving her curls a little extra bounce. She walks through the door, not realizing that it is the same shop Arthur had visited just the week before. She browses the display cases until she finds the one she needs.

"May I help you?" a woman walks up to her.

"Yes, I'm looking for a wedding band for my fiancé," she looks up from the case and smiles at the woman.

"Oh! You must be Mr. Pendragon's fiancée," the woman says, taking Gwen completely by surprise.

"Yes… how did you…" she asks.

"Sorry. It's your necklace. I sold it to him," she explains. "And since it was _just_ last week, it's still fresh in my mind."

"I see," Gwen smiles, "I hadn't realized that he had come here."

"And that ring of yours is pretty hard to forget, too, my dear."

Gwen looks at her hand. "Yes, it is at that."

"He was so cute. I've been in this business quite a while and every once in a while a young man like him comes in. Completely smitten," she smiles, and Gwen blushes slightly. "Now, what type of ring would you like for _him?_"

Gwen smiles at the older woman. "I know exactly what I want."

"Well, then, this should be easy, shouldn't it? And if we don't have it, we can get it," she assures her.


	49. Chapter 49

_"One more match. Tournament will be over."_

_ I feel so awkward around her this morning. My heart is pounding. Surely I'm not nervous about the tournament. Is it… is it her?_

_ "You can go back to being Prince Arthur."_

_ Yes, I suppose so. Do I want to, though? She seems… shy this morning. Oh. She's coming closer._

_ "Um… I thought you might wear it… for luck."_

_ Is she granting me a favor? Oh. Oh, my. She is. Wow._

_ "Thank you." Take it, dummy. Don't touch her hand. Don't. Just take the favor._

_ Did she just shrug? Like this is no big deal?_

_ Has she always been this beautiful? Have I been that blind? Why is it so hot in here? Do I dare?_

_ I want to. I really, really want to._

_ Oh God, her lips feel as good as they look. And she's not pulling away. She's not. Pulling. Away._

_ Stop before you can't. Gently._

_ I've never seen anyone so beautiful before this moment. I_ have _been that blind._

_ Breathe. Don't forget to breathe._

_ "I must go."_

_ I am in trouble._

The station alarm blares, waking Arthur out of his dream. He blinks a few times, puzzled. _What's that noise?_ Slowly the bunkroom comes into focus and he remembers where he is and who he is.

"Arthur! Come on!"

_Merlin had better be right. If he's not, I'm going to take him by his ears, and…_

_ Which tent is Arthur's again? Of course. The largest one. Silly me._

_ There's Gaius. Don't even ask, old man._

_ All right, Arthur._

_ "Ah, finally come to wish me luck? I really don't think I need it anymore."_

_ Prat. "No, Arthur, I've not come to wish you luck."_

_ How the hell am I going to do this?_

_ "Honestly, that's rather rude."_

_ Aha. "Then let me make amends." Go._ Go.

_Close your eyes. Just in case. You don't want to see the look of disgust… wait a moment, he's relaxing. Oh… oh, my. His arms feel so good around me. Okay, I guess Merlin was right._

_ There he is. My Arthur. He's back. Oh! He's hurt._

_ "What am I doing?"_

_ "You're in a fight. To the death. You're losing."_

_ He looks more confused by the fact that he's losing than he was by the fact that he is in a fight._

_ "But—"_

_ His skin is so warm under my hand._

_ "There's no time to explain. Just… live for me, Arthur. That's all I ask right now."_

Gwen's phone wakes her. Since missing the text when Arthur got hurt, she has changed her notification sound to something louder and makes certain that the volume is up before she goes to bed when he's at work.

_Fire in kitchen Luigi's! I am fine. Restaurant will be closed a few days._

"Oh no!" she says out loud. _That's one of our favorite places._

_Glad it's not a destroyed _she sends back. She stands to go to the bathroom, carrying her phone with her.

_Why are you up?_ It's past three a.m.

_I heard your text come in._

Thirty seconds later her phone rings.

"Hello?" she answers as if she doesn't know who's calling.

"Yes, may I speak with Guinevere, please?"

"Please hold, sir. She's having a pee."

Arthur laughs, but stops abruptly when he hears the flush.

"You weren't kidding?" he asks.

"No," she laughs.

"I didn't mean to wake you."

"I set my phone loud when you're not home, so I won't miss it if you text me."

"Why?"

"Why do you think?"

"Oh. Because of the thing. With the shoulder."

"Yes."

"How was your day?"

"Not bad," she says, climbing back into bed, reaching for her bear.

"Laundry all done?"

"Yes, thankfully. I also had lunch with Morgana and she gave me a haircut."

"Oh?"

"Yep. Chopped it all off."

"You did not."

"You won't know for sure till Wednesday, will you?" she teases.

"You wouldn't do that to me."

"It's not about you. It's my hair."

"You didn't. Did you?"

_He sounds pretty worried._ "No."

"I knew you wouldn't."

"You weren't sure, admit it."

"Okay, maybe I was a little concerned."

"A little."

"Oh! Wait. Hang on a sec."

She waits, while the background voices and noises abruptly stop.

"Where are you going?"

"Outside."

"What's up?"

"I had a dream."

"A dream?" _You, too?_

"Yes, one of _those_ dreams. Except you weren't being led to your death this time."

"Always good news."

"It wasn't as… _good_ as that one you had on the sofa that afternoon, but it was still pretty good."

"Oh?"

"I think it was the first time I—I mean Prince Arthur – kissed the servant Guinevere."

"Prince?"

"Definitely still Prince. Dream Gwen said something about it."

"Dream Gwen?" she laughs.

"Well, what else am I supposed to call her? She's not _really_ you, so…"

"Yes, yes, I get it. Arthur?"

"Hmm?"

"I had a dream, too."

"Do tell."

"Similar to yours, actually, just a kiss. But it was a good one. I think I—I mean 'Dream Gwen'— was breaking some sort of enchantment. A love spell, from the looks of things."

"Was I king in yours?"

"You are so fixated on that," she laughs. "I don't know, honestly. If I had to guess, I would say prince. So. Details. Tell me what you remember."

TUESDAY

"Oh, that is so romantic! Thunderstorm, power outage, candlelit dinner, Frank Sinatra…" Autumn has been hanging on Gwen's every word as she tells her about the weekend. _The fight doesn't really need to be mentioned,_ she decides.

"Morning, Viv," Autumn says as Vivian walks in.

"Hi Autumn… Gwen," Vivian says, practically running past, not looking at Gwen.

"Hmm. Wonder what's up with her? She was fine yesterday," Autumn wonders.

"I came back, that's what," Gwen says. She quietly tells her friend what little she knows about Vivian's behavior with Arthur.

"She did _not!_ What a bitch!"

"Shhh!" Gwen shushes her. "So now you know. But you didn't hear it from me."

"Good thing she's out of here soon, hey?"

"Can't come soon enough."

"So he's working now?"

"Yes. Had to go in yesterday, almost right after we got home."

"Well, that sucks."

Gwen laughs at Autumn's very appropriate and very American turn of phrase. "A bit, yes. But I got a lot done. Got a haircut. Did the laundry. Ran a few errands. Picked out his wedding ring. And a wedding gift for him as well."

"Ooo! What did you get?"

"Gwen, welcome back!" Dr. Gaius interrupts, walking in.

"You're early today," she says, walking around the desk to give him a hug and take his books.

"I have a busy day ahead," he explains. "That's a beautiful necklace, Gwen. Chocolate diamond, if I'm not mistaken?"

She smiles, "Yes, you're right. You clearly know your jewelry, Dr. Gaius."

"And can I assume that was a gift from Arthur?" he smiles knowingly.

"Of course."

"The lad has excellent taste. But I knew that," he winks at her. "He chose you."

"Well, if what you've been saying is true, he didn't really have much of a choice in the matter, did he?" she says quietly to him with a smirk.

He laughs, gives her a friendly squeeze on the elbow, and proceeds into the library for his latest pile of books.

"Gwen, phone for you," Elana calls.

"No rest for the weary," Gwen mutters, going to the phone.

"Yes, father, we're still on for tomorrow," Arthur says into his phone.

"Gwen isn't coming?" Uther asks.

_He sounds disappointed._

"No. And she wouldn't be _allowed_ anyway, remember?" Arthur says. Uther's club only allows women in for special events. _Stupid, misogynistic, antiquated…_

"Well, yes, but we could go somewhere else if she wished to join us."

"No, she's not coming. I think she has a dress fitting anyway."

"Already?"

"Apparently. She said something about probably needing several fittings. She's having the dress custom-made, you know."

"Good for her."

_Well, he clearly approves of that._ "Father, what's on your mind? You don't just call me for no reason, and I'm not buying that you're just confirming tomorrow."

"I'm trying to figure out what you're on about. With this dinner. What is it you wish to discuss with me?"

"We will talk about it tomorrow at dinner. It's nothing bad, I promise. No one is ill or pregnant or moving to Brazil or anything. Stop fixating on it."

Uther sighs. "Very well. I will meet you there at seven tomorrow night."

"Don't be late," Arthur tells him.

"Young man, where do you think you get your penchant for punctuality?"

_Did he just make a joke?_

"All right, I'll see you tomorrow."

"What was that all about?" Merlin asks. "Your father never calls you."

"He's all worked up because I asked to have dinner with him tomorrow."

"You did _what?_"

"Yeah. It was Gwen's idea. We found some… things… at the cottage and she thinks I need to get him to talk about mum."

"What kind of _things_ did you find?" Merlin raises an eyebrow.

"You have a dirty mind. Some photos. Letters. A newspaper clipping about the accident."

"At the cottage?"

"Most of them were in a box that was sitting on top of the cabinet in the boathouse. Gwen was getting the scaler and fish knife and the box almost fell on her."

"So your father didn't burn everything, did he?"

"I honestly never believed that he did. Her clothes, yes. But _pictures,_ no. Why would you burn pictures of your dead wife? Surely you'd want to keep them as a remembrance."

"Exactly. So you're going to take this box and present it to him at dinner. At the club."

"Yep. I'm a dead man."

"That's brilliant."

Arthur looks up at his friend, surprised.

"You think so?"

"Absolutely. He's hidden behind his grief for twenty-five years now. Time to make him come out, I think. Gwen's a smart lady."

"Yes, I know. If I didn't love her so much it'd be really annoying."

"And doing it at the club is a stroke of genius."

"Hey, I can take credit for that! That was my idea. It'll keep him from being a jerk and making a scene. Hopefully."

"What kind of pictures were they?"

"There was one of the two of them before they were married. That's not coming with. We're going to have it restored and framed for him."

"Nice."

"The ones in the box were wedding snaps."

"And the letters?"

"From my mother to Father. She was traveling for a while, and was writing to him."

"What did they say?"

"I didn't read them!"

"Why not?"

"Well, would _you_ like to read love letters _your_ mother has written?"

Merlin makes a face. "Ooo. Good point."

"Oi! Merlin! This ambulance isn't going to wash itself!" a voice calls from the other side of the garage, interrupting their conversation.

"I need to go inspect the gear anyway," Arthur says, shoving Merlin in the direction of the ambulance while he goes to join Leon by the fire truck.


	50. Chapter 50

WEDNESDAY

Arthur walks through the library doors in just enough time to see Vivian sprint from behind the counter into the children's area. He laughs at her childish behavior, but he doesn't want to deal with her, either.

"Hey, Arthur," Autumn greets him. "How was work? I heard about Luigi's. Bummer."

"They'll be back up and running in no time."

"Hope so. Gwen's around… somewhere. Not sure at the moment." She looks around, peering towards the shelves.

"I'll find her."

"I'm sure you will," she says with a smirk.

Arthur heads toward the main library just as Gwen comes around a corner and into view a distance away. She spots him and waves, then holds up one finger, indicating she'll be there in a minute. He spins on his heels and heads back to the lobby to wait, leaning against the counter on his elbows.

"I am so hungry," Gwen says, walking directly to Arthur for a kiss, which he happily gives.

"Where would you like to go?" he asks, resting his hands on her hips, thumbs absentmindedly stroking the line of her waist.

"I don't care. Just so long as I get some food."

"I saw one of those food trucks that have been around lately over by the park on my way here. We could get something there and eat in the park. It's really nice outside."

"Sounds lovely," she says, kissing him once more before pulling him out the door.

"How's your sandwich?" Arthur asks, taking a bite of his own. They found an open picnic table at the park and are watching the children play at the playground.

"Very good. Yours?" Gwen has egg salad on a croissant. Arthur has a toasted ham and swiss, and they each have a packet of crisps and a drink.

"Needs more cheese," he peers into it, lifting the top slice of bread slightly. "Of course, I generally want more cheese."

Gwen laughs. He tells her all about the fire Monday night. She tells him that she took the photo in to get fixed up and framed, and that they promised that the photo would be better than new when they were finished.

Arthur is pleased by this news, and Gwen smiles. _What he doesn't know is that I ordered a second one for him to have as well._

"What are you grinning at over there?"

"Hmm? Nothing. I'm just happy. Enjoying my lunch with the man I love."

"For a minute it looked like you were up to something. You had that look about you."

"I am a picture of innocence." She bats her eyelashes at him.

"I don't believe that for a minute."

"Oh—how did Leon fare in your absence?" she deftly changes the subject.

"Really well. Wayne couldn't even think of any rude remarks." He sighs. "Now I'll have to write a recommendation for him to the superintendent. I hate paperwork."

"You'll live."

"Would you write it for me?" he asks, jokingly. _Sort of._

"Hell no."

Arthur guffaws at this, and Gwen smirks.

"I will proofread it for you, though."

"You are too kind," he nods his head to her respectfully. "Wow, you_were_ hungry." _She almost never finishes a meal._

"Told you so," she says, popping the last crisp into her mouth with a crunch. "You ready for dinner with your father?"

He sighs. "Ready as I'll ever be, I guess," he says, standing to throw their wrappers into a nearby trash bin.

"Can I help you?" the maitre d' looks down his nose at Arthur as he walks in.

_What's his problem? I'm wearing a coat and tie._

"Yes, I'm meeting my father. Uther Pendragon."

"Oh! Yes, he's in the lounge. He's expecting you, sir."

"Thank you." Arthur walks towards the lounge, rolling his eyes. _Sir. Only after he found out who my dad was. Snob._

He spots Uther sitting in a leather chair by a window, martini in hand.

"You got here extra early on purpose," Arthur says, sitting across from him.

"I always come early for a drink before dinner," Uther says innocently. "I got you a pint," he points to a beer sitting on the table.

"Thanks."

Uther notices the box Arthur has brought along. "Ah. So that's it."

"Yep."

"Mr. Pendragon? Your table is ready." The waiter takes their drinks on his tray and leads them to Uther's table.

They sit, and the waiter sets their drinks on the table. "Can I interest you in a starter this evening? We have a lovely shrimp cocktail tonight."

"Sounds lovely, but—" he glances at Arthur, who is looking at him with raised eyebrows, "I think we'll pass on the shrimp."

"Very good, sir." The waiter opens the menus in front of them and leaves.

Uther barely glances at his, since he knows it well. Arthur takes his time, knowing full well that his father is glaring at him on the other side of the menu.

"You had to know this was coming at some point, Father."

"I was hoping not."

Arthur puts his menu down. "I want to know about Mother. And I want you to tell me. It's time for you to stop hiding behind your grief. It's been twenty-five years."

Uther sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "This is not fair, Arthur. Ambushing me. _Here._"

"Fair? You really want to talk about what is and isn't fair?"

"Arthur—"

The waiter comes and takes their order. Uther has the roast duck; Arthur orders the prime rib. _Hey, he's buying, why not?_

Arthur beats Uther to the punch. "What's unfair is you keeping my mother hidden from me for my entire life. I deserve to know. And _this,_" he pushes the box across the table to his father, "just goes to prove that you haven't shut her memory away completely."

Uther gingerly opens the box.

"I didn't read the letters."

Uther picks up the first photo from the stack and looks at it.

"Father. Please. You've denied me this my whole life. It's… it's _selfish_ of you to keep her locked away along with your heart."

"I haven't locked my heart away," Uther says, finally speaking again.

"Could have fooled me. Do you know how hard it was for me growing up? Honestly, Father, do you think Mum would have approved of the upbringing you gave me?"

"_Approved? Hard? _I gave you everything! You had anything a boy could have wanted!"

"Just things, Father. I didn't need _things._ I needed to know that my father loved me. I needed to know that… that you didn't wish that I had… died with her. Or instead of her."

"How could you say such a thing?" Uther leans forward, whispering harshly. "You have always been my priority!"

Arthur stares. _Really?_ "You could have mentioned that before now," he says quietly.

"Look, Father. I know you love me. I know that _now._ Now that I'm an adult. But as a child, all I knew was what I saw; what I heard. I saw other children with their parents. How they acted with each other. It didn't look like what I saw in my own house. I heard how Merlin's mother talked to him, how she treated him. _I wanted that._ I craved that. No amount of bicycles or footballs or model cars or fencing lessons can make up for what I was missing."

"I know you're not a demonstrative man, Father. I never expected you to fawn all over me or anything ridiculous like that. But a few kind words now and then would have gone a long way. A _long_ way. To hear you tell me that you love me, that you're proud of me…" he breaks off and quickly reaches for his drink.

Arthur clears his throat and continues. "_That's_ what closing off your heart does. It hurts other people. And it's always the people to whom you are closest."

Uther stares at his son for a few moments that feel like an eternity. "You're so like her," he finally says quietly, looking back down at the picture in his hand. "Every time I look at you, I see her. You have her eyes, her smile. Her blonde hair." He looks up from the photo to Arthur. "And it _hurts._ Even today. As much as I try to lock her memory away, you are a living, breathing reminder of who she was."

"You should embrace her memory instead of locking it away," Arthur tells him.

"I'm beginning to realize that." He picks up the rest of the stack of photos and flips through them. He smiles at a few of them. Then he sees the newspaper clipping and lifts it out.

"Did you read this?"

Arthur nods, and Uther places it back in the box without even unfolding it.

"She didn't need to work. I didn't want her to work. She was going to quit when you were born. A compromise. She loved her job; loved helping people. You get that trait from her."

"Certainly didn't come from you," Arthur teases, chuckling.

Much to his surprise, his father smiles. "Heh. You're probably right. I begged her to quit when she became pregnant with you, thinking that would be a good reason. She wasn't having any of it. Headstrong, she was. Another trait you inherited."

"Oh, now, don't sell yourself short, Father. You're certainly not lacking in the stubbornness department, either."

"True. I did get her to promise me that she would stay home once you were born." He sighs. "She only had two more weeks."

Their food arrives. Uther carefully puts the photos back in the box, closing it and setting it aside. He orders another drink.

"Arthur? Another?"

"Just water, please. I don't have the luxury of a driver, you know."

They eat in silence for a few minutes, both thinking about what the other has said.

"I'm not trying to upset you, Father. Just so you know."

"I know that."

"This was Guinevere's idea," he tries, thinking it might be a trump card.

"Oh?" he raises his eyebrows. "I should have guessed." He smiles.

"She was impressed by how handsome you were in the pictures."

"Now you're just flattering me."

"Why on earth would I do that?" Arthur rolls his eyes. "Honest, though. She said the way you were looking at Mum in some of those pictures is exactly how I look at her," Arthur studies his plate, a bit embarrassed at the turn the conversation has made.

"That doesn't surprise me." Uther is nonplussed. "You're completely nuts over her. Just like I was over your mother."

Arthur just grins. "Yeah."

"So what would you like to know?" Uther sighs.

"What? Um, I guess I didn't come prepared with a list. I… I guess I just want you to be more open to discussing her. If I should have a question. If there should be something I want to know about. I don't want her to be taboo anymore. Take some of those photos you have stashed around the house out of hiding and put them up, for Pete's sake. Stop hiding her."

"I didn't burn everything of hers. But you probably know that, don't you?"

"Of course I do. I've seen enough evidence of that," he smiles.

"Leah's going to think I've lost my mind."

"Nah, she's going to think you've gotten it back."

Arthur sets his fork down. "Okay, this is my final argument and then I'll let it go for the evening. Gwen and I are getting married. We do want to have children. Make amends to me through them. Show them the love that you were unable to show me and all is forgiven. Deal?"

"Deal." He reaches forward and the two men shake hands. "When did you get to be so smart?" he asks.

"I've always been smart, Father. You just never noticed before," he says, but the bitterness is gone from his voice.

They finish their dinner pleasantly enough, with Arthur telling his father about the various misadventures he and Gwen had in the Cotswolds, including his encounter with Sophia and the consequences that followed. Uther laughs at Arthur's misfortune and lauds Gwen for her feistiness.

Arthur walks his father to his waiting car. Uther turns to him, a strange look on his face.

He clears his throat. "I was going to tell you this closer to the wedding, but now feels like a good time."

"What's that?" Arthur asks, curious.

"I'm giving you the house. You and Gwen."

"Father, I…"

"No, I've decided."

"I… I don't know what to say. Thank you. I'll need to talk it over with Guinevere before we _officially_ say yes, but I don't think she'll have an issue."

Uther raises an eyebrow, noting the slight look of concern on his son's face. "You got in trouble, didn't you? About having the wedding there."

"Little bit," Arthur says sheepishly, and Uther laughs. "She called the three of us Neanderthals and accused us of hijacking the wedding."

Uther laughs even harder at this. "I knew I liked her."

"Where are you going to live?" _Not with us._

"I've purchased a penthouse in the city. I've seen Tom's; it's amazing."

"When did you see Tom's house?" Arthur is surprised. _They've been seeing each other socially?_

"We played golf a few weeks ago and he had me up for drinks after. I bought a place three buildings down from him, still under renovation. That way I can have them customize it to my specifications."

"Oh, please, father, you'd have that done even if it was complete."

"True. You'll be able to move in November first. Provided Gwen approves, of course," he smiles.

"Thank you. This is brilliant. Really."

"Call it a wedding gift."

Arthur smiles. "Don't think that exempts you from buying us something fantastic."

Uther laughs at this, a genuine laugh that makes Arthur's heart feel good.

"It's late. Go home to Gwen," Uther says, putting his hand on Arthur's shoulder.

"Good night, Father." Arthur turns to leave, but suddenly Uther's grip on his shoulder tightens, and he pulls his son to him for a tight hug.

"Your mother might not approve of how I raised you, but she would definitely approve of how you've turned out," Uther says quietly into Arthur's ear. "I am proud of you, son."


	51. Chapter 51

"How did it go?" Guinevere asks, cozy on the sofa under a blanket, waiting for Arthur to come home.

"Really well, actually," he says, looking a little puzzled by this fact. "No punches were thrown, and I'm fairly certain I'm still in the will." He looks at her and realizes that just her very presence makes him feel better. The evening ended well, but the nerves and emotion of the conversation with his father has worn on him. _So good to be home. I love coming home to her._ He removes his jacket and tosses it over the back of a chair.

"So what happened?" she asks as Arthur comes to the sofa, climbing on top of her. She giggles and he kisses her, his fingers caressing her cheek.

"Later," he breaks away just long enough to utter two syllables, then returns his lips to hers, open and longing, pressing her into the pillow.

"I just need you right now, Guinevere," he whispers into her neck, kissing the sensitive skin there. "I need to not think about anything but you. I need you to love me. I… I need…"

Gwen's heart aches at his words. She takes his face in her hands and brings it to her own, kissing him as softly and as tenderly as she can manage.

"Shh, love, I know." She returns her lips to his as she runs her hands back into his hair, sliding her fingers across his scalp. He moans softly into her mouth, but still lets her control the kiss.

"Arthur," she says releasing his lips, "take me back to the bedroom."

He kisses her once more, briefly, then stands and she flips the blanket off her lap. He lifts her in his arms before she even has a chance to stand up and carries her to the bedroom, his eyes never leaving hers.

"I didn't quite mean it that way, Arthur," she says gently.

"I like carrying you around."

She leans her head against his shoulder. _I give up._

He sets her gently on the bed, and she pulls him down to sit beside her. She reaches out and undoes his tie, sliding it from around his neck and tossing it aside. She unfastens his right cufflink and lifts his hand, kissing the pulse point on the inside of his wrist. He caresses the side of her face as she does this before she releases his hand to do the other, removing his watch as well before she kisses his left wrist.

Arthur watches her as she attends to him; tender, deliberate, sensual. _Gorgeous, sexy, enticing. Fate or luck, I don't care. I wouldn't trade her for the world._

Guinevere scoots closer, almost in his lap, and unbuttons the top button at his collar. Opening his shirt with her fingers, she leans in and kisses his throat. She feels the vibration of a quiet moan under her lips, and so she kisses him a few more times as she unbuttons the next button down. His hands slide around her back, holding her to him.

He closes his eyes, relishing the feel of her lips at his neck. Her hands slide down his chest, her fingers closing around the fabric at his sides and she yanks upward, untucking his shirt.

His belt slides free from its loops next before she turns her attention back to his buttons. He pulls her fully into his lap now, and she straddles him as she opens his shirt, kissing her way down as she goes. Arthur's hands slide down beneath her bottom, holding her, fingers enjoying the feel of the bare skin at her hips.

Gwen opens the last button and places her hands flat on his chest, feeling the heat of his skin under her palms. She leans forward and kisses him again, deeply yet gently, slipping her arms around him beneath the crisp white shirt, pulling herself even closer.

Her lips leave his and she trails kisses along his cheek to nibble his ear a bit, which pulls a small smile at the corners of his mouth. Arthur lets go of her backside just long enough to reach up and pull his shirt from his shoulders, casting it to the floor beside his tie.

Shifting them slightly, Arthur lifts and turns them so he is laying over her, surrounding her with his presence as he kisses her, slowly caressing her tongue with his own, melding and molding into one another with a smoldering passion.

"Guinevere," he whispers against her lips as her hands move to unfasten his trousers. She starts to remove them by plunging her hands into his underwear at his hips and pushing downward, easing them down. He breaks away long enough to kick them the rest of the way off and quickly yank his socks off as well.

_Good,_ Gwen thinks, _I hate it when they leave their socks on. _She chuckles a little at the random thought, and Arthur looks at her quizzically for a moment when he returns to her.

"I'm glad you took your socks off, that's all," she admits, which makes him laugh.

He grabs her and rolls them so she is atop him once again, straddling his stomach. He reaches up and pulls her t-shirt off over her head. She looks down at him and watches him watching her, drinking her in with his eyes. He places his hands on her stomach, warm and soft, and slides them up, over her breasts, his hands feeling their response to his touch beneath his palms.

"I love you so much, Arthur," she says, placing her hands over his, holding them to her briefly before moving both of his hands to rest over her heart.

"For me alone," he whispers, remembering her words from the last time she placed his hand over her heart. Gwen nods, gazing into his eyes before leaning down to kiss him again. And again. And again, until he is no longer able to think straight.

Her body is pressed against his, tantalizing and tempting, his skin feeling an electric heat at every point where it touches hers. His hands roam across her skin, coming to rest on her hips, where he realizes that she still has her panties on. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband and starts sliding them down pushing until he can no longer reach. Gwen pulls away and finishes removing them, kicking them off her foot, not noticing that they've landed halfway across the room.

She returns her body to his, her skin aching for contact with his. Arthur makes a sound somewhere between a moan and a sigh as she slides her body along his. _He must feel the same way,_ she thinks as she finds his manhood, caressing it between her thighs, sliding him along herself, bringing pleasure to both of them.

_How does she_ do _that?_

"Oh, God, Guinevere, I love you," he groans, hands grasping at her hips, her rear, pulling her even closer, impossibly so, wrapping his arms tight around her back, just holding her to him for a few moments, her face in his neck.

He turns his face into the top of her head, breathing her in, feeling the heat between them. Slowly he relaxes his grip on her and allows her to move again. She lifts herself up, looks down at him for a second or two, kisses the end of his nose with a smile, then claims his lips with her own once again. She presses her breasts into his chest, and he worms his hand down between their bodies so he can touch her. When his fingers find her and begin to move, she whimpers softly into his mouth, urging him on. Arthur finds he can't do as much as he would like with his hand trapped between them, so he gently raises her body with the other so he can bring his lips to her breast as well as giving him some room to touch her the way he would like.

Gwen responds with a few more soft cries, and she reaches down to grasp him in her hand as well. Her attention is rewarded with a soft bite at her nipple, making her gasp with pleasure. His finger slides into her a few times and he moves to her other breast, kissing his way across. She arches against him, her mind on nothing else but him.

Arthur's hand leaves her and moves to rest over her hand at his erection, stilling it and gently pulling it away. Gwen smiles just slightly at the message, feeling a little smug that she is exciting him so.

He comes up for air for a second and looks up at her. She can see the need, the pleading in his eyes. She repositions herself over him, lowering herself, leaning back, easing him into her as she does so. He presses his head back into the pillows with a soft, low moan.

Gwen's eyes close for a second as she takes him in as deep as he can go and stays still, holding him there. Arthur opens his eyes and he watches her, smiling at the look of bliss on her face.

"Guinevere," he whispers. She opens her eyes to find him watching her.

"Hi," she says. _Why did I say that?_

"Come here," he coos, and she leans forward, sliding her knees back and twining her legs around his.

She starts to move, slowly at first, kissing him ardently as she does so, prompting him to push into her, increasing the pace and intensity. Arthur's hands caress her back, feeling her skin beneath his fingers, running them along from her shoulders to her backside and back up before bringing one around to a breast.

"Arthur," she breathes into his ear as she kisses and licks at it, biting his earlobe, his neck, her fingers grasping at his shoulders, pulling his hair.

He growls quietly, low, in the back of his throat. Suddenly he rolls them over so he is above her again. She keeps her legs around him and he drives into her, mindless with need and desire.

"Oh… Arthur… oh…" she gasps, and those little gasping half-formed words reach Arthur's ears and he releases into her, growling again, just as her soft gasps turn into passionate cries and she squeezes his hips tight between her thighs, her back arching, her hands grasping his head, pulling him down to her so she can kiss him once more.

He stills over her, easing gently down to rest his head on her shoulder. Gwen hooks her feet together behind him, almost casually, as if she were simply lounging comfortably.

"Mmm," he hums contentedly into her neck. She runs her fingers through his hair, stroking it gently before dropping her fingers to trace his cheek and jaw, feeling his skin, the slight stubble there, the dampness of his sweat.

"Have I told you how wonderful and amazing you are?" he asks after a time.

Guinevere unhooks her feet and removes her legs from his waist. "Not today," she smiles.

"Well, then," Arthur says, rolling off of her, "you are wonderful and amazing and while I totally don't deserve you, I'm going to make you keep me around anyway." He pulls her to him as he speaks, cuddling her in his arms. She rests her head on his shoulder.

Gwen laughs, leans over to kiss him, and says, "Thank you. You are pretty wonderful and amazing yourself. And I'd like to see someone try and stop me from keeping you around."

He sighs, holding her tenderly, brushing her hair back away from her face. "I love it when you're all disheveled like this. Especially when the dishevelment is caused by me." He grins at her as she sits up and reaches for an elastic hair band from the bedside table, rakes her fingers through her hair a few times to dislodge the tangles, and secures it back into a ponytail.

She rolls her eyes at him before snuggling back down against his shoulder, her hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat under her palm. "So. Tell me about dinner."

THURSDAY. VERY EARLY.

"Ohhhh…" Arthur vaguely hears a moan, followed by the bed jostling just enough to rouse him slightly from sleep. _She must be having another one of those dreams,_ he thinks with a small smile. He rolls over to draw her to him, and can't find her. He hears the distant _click_ of the bathroom door, followed by another muffled moan.

_Perhaps not, then._ He listens, but he can't quite tell what's going on. He slides out of bed and pulls on a pair of shorts, glancing at the clock. Three twelve.

"Guinevere?" He knocks quietly on the bathroom door. He hears something splashing, like someone is pouring a large pot of soup into a basin, accompanied by a small grunt. "Are you all right?'

It is quiet for a moment, then he hears, "Does it bloody well _sound_ like I'm all right?"

"Are you ill?"

"No, I'm having a party."

_Wow, she gets_ sarcastic _when she's not feeling well. _He tries the doorknob, and it turns.

"I don't think you want to come in right now," she says weakly.

"I'm not going to talk to you through a bathroom door again," he says as he enters. He sees her sitting on the floor, kneeling in front of the toilet. She's put on the dressing gown she keeps hanging in the bathroom, and her skin has a grayish tinge to it. She is sweaty and trembling slightly.

"Oh, love, I'm so sorry," he says sympathetically, crouching beside her and rubbing her back with his palm.

She hunches down, moaning again, and he brushes her hair back from her face where it has come out of her ponytail. "It _hurts._ Why does it hurt?" she says, squeezing her eyes shut. A few tears slip out.

He wipes the tears from her cheek with his thumb and is about to say something, but his words are interrupted as Gwen says, "Oh, no…" and leans over the toilet again, heaving out whatever was still left in her stomach. Arthur reaches up and sweeps her hair back out of the way, re-securing it into the elastic band for her between heaves.

She sits back down on her heels, breathing heavily. Arthur gets her a glass of water from the tap before sitting back down behind her. She tips the cup to her lips, rinses her mouth, spits into the bowl, and flushes. Then she leans against Arthur and sips carefully.

"Can I do anything for you? Do you need anything?" he asks carefully, softly, holding her there on the bathroom floor.

"Some clothes would be nice," she croaks, her throat raw.

"What would you like?" he asks, somehow knowing she's going to want something other than one of his t-shirts.

"There are some soft flannel pajamas in the wardrobe. They're red with black Scottish Terriers on them."

"Got it." He kisses the top of her head and gently releases her. He stands and goes in search of what she wants.

Arthur returns, having put a shirt on, with her pajamas in his hand, and finds her curled in the fetal position on the bathroom rug. He sighs, frowning, and sits down near her once again. _I hate seeing her like this._

"Come on, sweetheart, let's get you dressed," he says softly, pulling her up to a seated position. He helps her dress. She is still shivering, so he puts the robe back on over the pajamas. He then holds out a pair of ridiculously fuzzy socks he found while looking for the pajamas and asks, "Do you want these on as well?"

She smiles weakly and nods. "Yes, please."

"Glad I brought them," he says as he pulls them on over her small, cold feet. He sits with his back against the wall and pulls her to lie against him. He strokes her hair, rubs her back, tries to do anything he can think of to make her feel not so miserable.

"You can go back to bed," she says.

"I'm not going to leave you here alone on the cold bathroom floor," he protests.

"There's no need for both of us to miss out on sleep."

"I'm not going anywhere tomorrow. Later today, I mean. Besides, do you honestly think I'd just go back to bed and drop off to sleep knowing you are in here feeling like roadkill?"

She laughs, then stops abruptly, her body tensing. "Oh, don't make me laugh."

"Sorry, love."

"Uh-oh," she crawls forward, across to the toilet again and throws up the water she just drank.

"How do you do that so quietly?" Arthur asks, rubbing her back again.

"What?" she coughs the word out, still hunched over the toilet.

"Vomit. Last time I was ill, the neighbors complained of the noise."

"Ow… I told you not to make me laugh." Her breathing is heavy, and she hardly seems able to hold herself up any more, yet she reaches over and grabs some toilet tissue and wipes down the edge of the toilet bowl. Tossing the paper into the toilet, she then rests her arm on the edge of the bowl and then her head on her arm.

"Sorry. I sometimes do that when I get worried. Or feel helpless. I crack jokes as kind of a defense mechanism." His hand is on her back yet, now still. _I just want her to know I'm here._

"Oh. I'm sorry you feel helpless. I—oh…" she moans again, collapsing back into him, her arms wrapping around her stomach.

_She's retching her guts out and yet she apologizes to me,_ he thinks, wondering at her.

"Okay," she breathes, "I think this wave is passing." She settles back into him again. "I want to lie down," she complains.

"No, sorry, love, if you're vomiting, you should stay upright. Let gravity help," he says, pulling her back up as she was starting to slide down.

A few minutes later she is asleep again. _Okay, now what do I do?_ Arthur considers his possibilities. _Stay here? My bum is falling asleep. Move her? She might wake up._ Can _I even get up? I know I can't lift her with me._ He shifts his weight slightly, his rear end feeling like it's no longer attached. _Gotta move._

"Hang on, love," he whispers, lifting her away from him just enough so he can find his feet. Not letting go of her sides, he stands, bent over, and he slides his hands up under her arms and hoists her to her feet.

_If I move one hand to lift her, she'll fall. Hmm._

Arthur slides one hand around to support her back and she leans against it. _Good._ He releases his other hand to reach down behind her knees and he lifts her into his arms and carries her back to the bed, where he lays her back down, propping her up slightly with an extra pillow.

He puts his hand to her forehead. _It's not warm. What is going on here? _He frowns over her, then unties the belt of her dressing gown and manages to remove it from her before tucking her back into bed.

Before he climbs back in himself, he goes to the trash bin, empties it, and puts a clean bag inside. He sets it on the floor next to her. _Just in case._


	52. Chapter 52

Arthur wakes again some time later to find Gwen gone again. It is now light outside, but it is still very early. He sighs, rolls across the bed, and peeks into the trashcan. Still empty. _Well, that's good, I guess._

He gets up and walks to the bathroom again and is not surprised to find the door closed. He tries the knob and finds it locked this time.

"Gwen?"

"I know, it's locked. You do _not_ want to come in here."

"I don't?"

"_No._ Oh…" she moans again.

Arthur is confused now.

"It has moved," she explains after a moment.

"Moved?"

"I'm not vomiting at the moment, but I am _definitely_ still ill and I _definitely_ need to be in here."

"Ah. _Moved._" He pauses. "Thank you for locking the door, then."

Another moan.

_I don't think I want to listen to this._ "Do you need anything?"

"A new digestive system."

"I'll take that as a 'no,' then. I'll just… leave you to it, then."

"Thank you."

Arthur walks back to the bedroom. Five forty-five. He picks up his phone and sends a text to Merlin. _Call me when you get up._ He sets the phone down and sits on the bed, propping himself up against the headboard.

He hears a flush. Then, a few minutes later, another, which makes him laugh, for some demented reason. Gwen comes staggering back to the bedroom and collapses on the bed, curled on her side, facing him.

"To use one of Autumn's more colorful phrases, that sucked."

"Are you feeling _any_ better?"

"No. I'm still nauseous, too. For a few minutes there I was—wait, you probably don't want to know." _I don't even want to know._

He raises an eyebrow. "You're probably right." He reaches down and pulls the covers over her. She kicks them off.

"I'm hot now."

Arthur reaches over and feels her forehead again. "You don't have a fever. You didn't before, either."

"Really?"

"I've sent Merlin a text to call me when he wakes. I want him to come check on you."

"Arthur…"

"No arguments. What's the point of having a best friend who is an EMT _and_ a registered nurse if I can't abuse him?"

Gwen starts to laugh and clutches her stomach again.

"Oh, sorry, love!"

"Stop making me laugh."

"I'll try, but sometimes I can't stop it." He strokes her hair. "Try to go back to sleep."

Forty-five minutes later Merlin calls. Arthur had turned the volume down on the phone when Gwen fell asleep so it wouldn't wake her when Merlin rang. He grabs it and gets up from the bed.

"Hey," Arthur says quietly.

"What's up?" Merlin asks.

"Gwen is ill. Can you stop over and take a look at her?"

"Ill how?"

"She was up at three vomiting. Stomach cramps. And now it's coming out the… uh… _other_ end."

Merlin laughs, knowing Arthur's squeamishness on that particular subject. "Fever?"

"None. She was cold before and now she's hot, but no fever."

"Hmm. Could be a stomach virus. Could be food poisoning. I'll be over in a bit. Mum just brought me some chicken soup yesterday, I'll bring some for her."

"Thanks, mate."

"Any time."

"What did he say?" Gwen mumbles when Arthur hangs up.

"You're supposed to be sleeping," Arthur scolds her.

"I am."

"He said he'd be over in a little bit. He's bringing you some soup."

Gwen's nose wrinkles.

"It's his mother's homemade chicken soup."

"Oh, that's different. I hate tinned soup."

"Is there anything you want? I'm sure he'd be happy to stop and pick up anything for you. Except for a new digestive system."

Gwen smiles, then says, "Gatorade."

"Gatorade?"

"Yes."

"The sports drink."

"Yes."

"All right." He doesn't sound convinced, but he dials Merlin back.

"Hey, can you stop and pick something up for Gwen on your way over?" he asks.

"Of course, what does she want?"

"She wants Gatorade."

"Oh, that'll be good for her."

"Really?"

"Yes, she needs to keep hydrated, and that'll be excellent for it. What flavor does she want?"

"What flavor, love?" Arthur asks Gwen.

"Orange. Or lemon-lime."

Arthur repeats this to Merlin.

"I'll get some of both, then."

"Thanks again."

Shortly after seven thirty, there's a knock at the door. Arthur has stayed awake, with the telly quietly, watching over the slumbering Gwen like a mother hen. He gets up to let Merlin in.

"How is she?" Merlin asks as he walks in and hands Arthur a plastic container filled with soup. He follows him to the kitchen with the Gatorade and they put the soup and juice in the refrigerator.

"Threw up once more not too long ago. She's sleeping now."

Their heads turn as they hear the bathroom door close.

"Or perhaps not," Arthur amends.

They walk back, and Arthur knocks softly on the door. "Guinevere? Merlin's here."

There is a sputtering cough from the other side of the door. "Fantastic," she says.

"She sounds terrible," Merlin whispers to Arthur.

"I know," Arthur says, looking worried.

"I'm sure she'll be fine, Arthur," he says as they walk back to the bedroom. Arthur plops on the bed, Merlin sits on a chair in the corner, and they wait, watching the news.

They hear the toilet flush and soon Guinevere is shuffling back into the room.

"Wow," Merlin says, "you look like shit."

"Yes, well I've been puking my guts out all morning. What's your excuse?" she scowls at him, gingerly climbing onto the bed.

Merlin raises his eyebrows at Arthur.

"I've discovered that it's safest not to aggravate her when she's ill. She gets… sarcastic," Arthur says to Merlin with a smirk. Gwen kicks him. "And violent as well, apparently," he adds.

Merlin stands and crosses to the bed, kneeling beside Gwen. She obediently rolls on her back and looks at him.

"When did your symptoms start?" he asks, placing his hand on her forehead. _He's right. She's a little warm, but no fever._

"Around three," she says.

"And you felt fine last night? When you went to bed?"

"Yes, I felt great."

"I can confirm that. She did indeed feel _great,_" Arthur interjects.

Merlin gives Arthur with an exasperated look but chooses to otherwise ignore his remark. Gwen kicks him again.

"May I?" Merlin asks, his hand hovering over her stomach.

"Yes," she says.

He places his hand on her stomach, pressing down slightly. She inhales sharply through her teeth.

"Tender?"

"Yes."

"Cramping?"

"God, yes."

"Vomiting and diarrhea?"

She nods. Arthur winces at the word "diarrhea," and Merlin rolls his eyes. "Baby," he calls him.

He gently prods her stomach a few more times, then looks at her. "I know this is the last thing you want to think about, but what did you have to eat yesterday?"

She sighs, steeling herself. "I had a grapefruit and some toast for breakfast, with a cup of tea…"

"No wonder you were so hungry at lunch," Arthur comments.

"Shut it, you." Merlin tells Arthur. "Go on."

"Lunch, I had an egg salad sandwich on a croissant and some crisps."

"From home?"

"No, Arthur and I got sandwiches from a food truck in the park."

"What did you have?" Merlin asks Arthur.

"Toasted ham and Swiss."

"And you feel fine?"

"Yes."

"Hmm. And dinner?"

"I had a piece of chicken and a salad."

"Reheated or fresh? The chicken, I mean."

"Fresh. Do you think I have food poisoning?"

"Most likely," he nods. "The likeliest culprit would be the egg salad."

"Don't say 'egg salad,' please," she moans, rolling on to her side.

"Do you remember the name of the truck?" Merlin asks Arthur.

"Yeah, I think it was like Tommy's or Tony's or Timmy's…"

"Gerald's," Gwen interrupts. Merlin laughs.

"You may want to see if you can find them," he recommends.

"It's a truck; it could be anywhere," Arthur sighs.

"Don't worry about it. I don't care; the damage has been done already," Gwen says, her voice muffled as she burrows back into the bed.

"So what now?" Arthur asks.

"Nothing, really. Keep her hydrated, that's most important. If your stomach is sore, Gwen, you can put a heating pad or a hot water bottle on to help soothe the muscles. Even a hot bath, if you think you won't, um, pollute the water."

"Ew," Arthur says.

"You'll definitely be down today and tomorrow. Saturday is possible, too. It depends on how much, um, bacteria, you ingested."

"Super," she moans.

"You'll be fine, Gwen," he says, bending to kiss her forehead before standing. To Arthur, he says, "I presume we'll be rescheduling, then?"

"You presume correct, sorry, mate."

"What are you canceling?" Gwen asks, her eyes closed.

"Nothing major. We were just going to the club to spar a bit," Arthur says.

"Spar?" She opens one eye. "Are you boxing now?"

"Fencing, love. We're both feeling a little out of practice."

"You can go, I'll be fine."

"Yeah, that's not happening." He turns back to Merlin. "I'll just have to humiliate you on the strip another time."

"Yeah, right," Merlin says. "You may be bigger and stronger, but I'm _faster._"

"All talk, this one," Arthur says, and goes to walk Merlin to the door.

"Arthur," he says when they are in the living room, "if she starts feeling dizzy or disoriented, has trouble moving, or starts talking nonsense, take her to hospital. Those could be signs of a more serious food poisoning."

Arthur looks scared, so Merlin reassures him. "I'm sure it's not, but you need to be informed."

"Thanks, mate."

"Anytime. Take care of her. Make sure you bring her some of that Gatorade when you go back there. And don't forget to call in to the library for her."

"Yes, Mother," he rolls his eyes.

Merlin looks thoughtful for a moment.

"What?" Arthur says.

"Oh, nothing. I just realized that I no longer have plans for the day. I think I'll drop in at the zoo." He smiles.

"Tell Freya hello for us, then," Arthur says as his friend exits. _Did I just say "us?"_ he thinks, smiling to himself as he closes the door. _Yes, I did. And it felt really good, too._

He stops in the kitchen and grabs a bottle from the fridge. He looks on the counter and sees a packet of straws sitting there, courtesy of Merlin. He opens them and takes one out and carries them back to the bedroom.

"Guinevere?" he asks softly, not really wanting to wake her if she's sleeping.

"Hmm?" A voice from somewhere in the bed.

"Drink, please, love." He opens the bottle, inserts the straw and holds it out for her. She sits up a bit and sips cautiously. "Good girl," he says, setting the bottle on the bedside table for her. "Where's your phone?"

"Over there," she lifts her arm only and points to the wardrobe. "Oh yeah. Call Autumn for me?"

"That was the plan."

He finds her name and rings her.

"Well, it's Arthur, actually. Gwen's ill."

"Most likely food poisoning."

"No, but Merlin stopped in and gave her a seeing-to."

"Probably that food truck we got lunch from yesterday."

"Gerald's," Gwen supplies.

"Gerald's. Stay away."

"Probably tomorrow as well, yes."

"I'll tell her, thanks, Autumn."

He hangs up the phone and sets it on the side table next to his phone. "Well, she's properly horrified. She says to get better quickly."

"Oh darn, and here I was planning on lingering for a couple weeks."

He laughs this time. _It's funny when it's not directed at me._

Arthur sits down on the bed.

"Will you hold me please?" she asks.

"Of course," he climbs in, and she curls up against him, her head on his shoulder. He holds her, stroking her back, her hair, kissing the top of her head.

_I can't believe I forgot!_ "Do you want some good news?" he asks.

"Please."

"Father wants to give us the house."

She leans her head back and looks at him. "_What?_"

"Yep. He says that we can move in November first. If you are agreeable, of course." He runs one finger along her cheek.

"Wow. Really?"

"Yep."

"Where's he going to live?" _Not with us._

"That's the funniest part. He's purchased a penthouse three buildings down from your father."

"_No!_" Gwen is wearily aghast.

"Yes. They played golf recently and Tom had him up for drinks after. Father fell in love with the place."

Gwen laughs carefully, putting her head back down on his shoulder.

"I told him I'd talk to you before giving him an answer."

"Good man."

"Well?"

"Yes. How could I refuse? It's a free house." She snuggles against him, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, bunching it in her fist on his chest.

"It's still being built, I guess, which is why November."

"That's completely fine."

"Really?"

"Well, yes. Since the wedding's going to be there, I'd rather it still be _his_ house then."

"Good point. That way any mishap or mess is his problem."

"Exactly."

"Well, it would more likely be _Leah's_ problem, in actuality."

"Most likely," her voice is sleepy.

He kisses the top of her head again and says nothing further, letting her fall asleep on his shoulder.


	53. Chapter 53

Gwen's phone rings. Arthur quickly reaches for her phone. Morgana.

"Hi, Morgana," he says quietly into the phone.

"Arthur? Why are you answering Gwen's phone?" she asks.

"Because Gwen is ill and is currently sleeping on my shoulder."

"Ill? What's wrong? Are you ill, too? What happened? Has she seen a doctor?"

"Morgana. She'll be fine. She has a bit of food poisoning, probably from some egg salad. I'm fine; I didn't have any egg salad. Merlin has been to see her. Did I get everything?"

"Sorry. I think so. Does she need anything?"

"I think we're set for now. Tomorrow might be a different story. I need to go to work at noon."

"I can stop in and check on her."

"Would you?"

"Arthur, I don't need a bloody babysitter," Gwen says into his chest.

"She's just going to check on you, love. I didn't ask her to come and _stay_ with you. Although…"

"_No._" Gwen is firm.

"I heard that," Morgana says, laughing. "She's a little pain in the neck sometimes, isn't she?"

"Yes," Arthur chuckles. "Is there a message I can give her?"

"No, I was just calling to chat. See how her fitting went last night. She can call me whenever she feels up to it. Keep me posted if there's any change, Arthur."

"Will do. Talk to you later."

"'Bye, Arthur."

"How are you feeling?" Arthur asks Gwen.

"Lousy."

"You need to drink some more."

Gwen groans and rolls over, picking up the bottle. She drinks, a little more than last time, still slowly. "Have you eaten anything?" she asks Arthur.

"Not yet."

"Well go eat. Just do it in the kitchen. And don't make any eggs."

He laughs, then says, "You'll be okay?"

"I don't need constant supervision, Arthur. Go."

He gets up. "All right, then. I think I'd like a shower, too. I'll make sure to leave the door unlocked, though, if you need to visit."

"Gee, thanks. Can I have the remote?"

He hands it to her and helps her sit up a bit, propping her up on some pillows.

Arthur is pleased that his shower is not interrupted. Not for himself, he doesn't mind sharing the bathroom with her, but because that means Gwen didn't _need_ to come in. He steps out of the bathroom and wanders down the hall, towel around his waist, when Gwen speeds past him into the bathroom, locking the door.

_So much for that._

"Oh, now this is just great." He hears her voice from the bathroom as he dresses. She sounds… irritated. Pulling a shirt on over his head, he goes to investigate.

"Guinevere?"

"As if I didn't have enough do deal with," she complains. A moment later a moan followed by, "Ow."

"What is going on in there?"

"My… monthly visitor is here. Apparently my uterus decided to join the exodus."

_Um, yuck._ "Surely you knew it was… due, right? Being on the pill and everything?"

"Well, yes, but I've been a little _preoccupied_ today, all right?" A pause, then another quiet moan.

He sighs. "Hang in there, love," he says, placing his hand on the door for a moment before going back to the bedroom.

The bottle of Gatorade is more than half-empty, and Arthur smiles. He looks around the room, tidying things up, chuckling as he finds Gwen's discarded knickers from the previous night five feet away from the rest of their abandoned clothing.

Her phone rings again. _Does she always get this many calls?_ He dumps the armload of clothing into the hamper and picks up her phone. No ID, just a number.

"Hello?"

"Um, hello. May I speak to Gwen, please?"

"She's a little busy at the moment. May I ask who's calling?"

"This is Lisa from Richmond Jewelers."

"Lisa? Arthur Pendragon. Hi."

"Oh! Arthur, what a surprise!"

"Gwen's a bit under the weather at the moment. Is there a message I can give her?"

"Um…" she hesitates. "No. There is a message, but you can't give it to her, I'm afraid."

"Okaayyyy…"

Just then, Gwen comes staggering back in. "Who's on my phone?"

"Oh, Lisa, hold a moment." He turns to Gwen. "The jeweler is on your phone," he tells her, raising an eyebrow.

"Gimme." She holds out a hand. "Go away," she tells Arthur. He hands her the phone, holds up his hands in resignation and exits the room.

"Hello?" she says as she lies back down on the bed, tucking her feet under the covers.

"Oh, dear, you sound like you've been through the ringer," Lisa says sympathetically.

"I sound much better than I feel, believe me. What's up?"

"The ring is in and ready. And it's _gorgeous._ He's going to love it. So are you."

"Can you hold it for me? I'm going to be down at least until Saturday, so I won't be able to pick it up until Monday at the earliest."

"Of course we can. It will be waiting here for you. And I've been told that the other item will be ready in three weeks to a month."

"That's fine. The wedding isn't until October; he won't get it before then anyway. No problems with the customizations, then?"

"None at all."

"Good. I was a little worried. Keep me posted if anything changes, though."

"I will do that. "

"Thanks for calling."

"Not at all. Make sure that handsome devil takes good care of you, all right?"

"I will. Oh, and Lisa? Spread the word: if you see a food truck called Gerald's, avoid it. It gave me food poisoning."

"Noted, thanks," she chuckles as they hang up.

The morning passes. Gwen attempts a piece of dry toast at around eleven, and gets half of it down before she just can't any more. Arthur pushes Gatorade on her until she snaps and throws an empty bottle at his head. He ducks, laughing, but decides to leave her alone for a bit nevertheless.

Arthur decides to call his father while he eats his lunch.

"Yes, Arthur?"

"I'm sorry, are you busy?"

"Having lunch. What can I do for you?"

"Talked to Gwen about the house. She's in."

"Excellent." Then Arthur hears him talking to someone with him. _"Gwen agreed to the house."_

_ "Oh, good!"_ a vaguely familiar voice responds in the distance.

"Whom are you lunching with?" Arthur asks.

"Tom."

"Tom? What, are you two best mates now?"

"Business associates who have a lot in common," Uther clarifies. Arthur distinctly hears the _clink_ of glasses meeting in a toast.

"Who are you and what have you done with my father?"

"Very funny. Kicking around the flat today, then?"

"Actually, no. Gwen is ill, so I'm looking after her."

"Ill how?" Then to Tom, _"Gwen is ill?"_

_ "Really? No! What's the matter?"_

"A touch of food poisoning, according to Merlin." Uther repeats this to Tom.

"Oh. So you haven't taken her to a _real_ doctor, then?" he says into the phone.

"Father, honestly. Merlin's word is as good as any doctor's, you know that."

Uther _humphs._

"Why don't you trust Merlin's diagnoses?"

"I just don't think it's… right for a man to be a nurse. Don't get me wrong; I like the boy fine. But it's just not _natural_.

"How very misogynistic of you. Besides, you didn't seem to have a problem with it last year when he treated the black eye you got from that football."

"Well, he _was_ the one that kicked it."

"Yes, but _you_ walked on to the pitch."

"It wasn't a football pitch, it was my back garden!"

"You knew we were back there and what we were doing."

"I'm not having this argument again." He sighs. "Look, I know Merlin is good at his job. It's just when I see him, I only see that strange skinny boy he always was."

"Yes, and now he's a strange skinny man, and he's an excellent health care professional."

Arthur hears Tom's voice again, but he can't quite make out what he is saying. "Arthur, Tom wants to know if he can speak with Gwen. Can you give her the phone?"

"I'll see if she's awake. I banished myself to the living room after she threw an empty Gatorade bottle at my head."

Uther laughs. "Good for her."

"Guinevere?" Arthur pokes his head through the door.

She turns her head and gives him a look. "You're not here to push more Gatorade on me, are you? Because I assure you, I have been drinking it so I have fresh ammo."

"Your father wants to talk to you." He holds out his phone.

"Why is my father on your phone?"

"He's not. He's on _my_ father's phone."

"What?"

"They're lunching together. Just… here." He hands her the phone.

"Daddy?"

"Hello, Princess, how are you feeling?"

"Terrible."

Gwen and her father chat for a bit until she has to drop the phone quite suddenly and hurry off to the bathroom.

"Tom?" Arthur picks up the phone.

"I'm here. Did she have to…?"

"I think the toast wants out, yes."

"Tell her I love her and I'll call her later."

"I will."

"Here, I'll give you Uther back. Take care of my daughter."

"Yes, sir, you know I will."

"Arthur," Uther's voice comes back. "I'll have my people start drawing up the paperwork for the deed transfer."

"Already?"

"It'll take a little while. Better to be prepared, yes?"

"All right. I'd better go check on Gwen. 'Bye, Father."

"Goodbye, Son."

"Toast all gone?" Arthur asks when Gwen comes back. He's sitting on the bed, back against the headboard. She comes over and lies down, resting her head in his lap.

"Yes. Stupid toast."

She closes her eyes again. Each time she visits the bathroom it wears her out. Arthur sweeps a few errant curls away from her face, frowning slightly with worry.

"Stay here with me," she says, snuggling against his leg. Under normal circumstances, Arthur would be quite aroused with her head on his thigh, clinging to his leg like this, but at the moment all he can do is stroke her hair and worry over her. He turns the volume down on the television so as not to disturb her.

She sighs and he starts to hum softly to her, an Irish folksong that his Gran used to sing all the time.

"_Star of County Down_," Gwen says quietly, smiling that he would know such a tune.

Arthur keeps humming and stroking her hair. "Do you know the words?" she mumbles.

He stops, pausing a moment before answering. "Probably not," he laughs, knowing she'll bust him first word he gets wrong.

"Too bad," she snuggles into him.

"Go to sleep." He resumes humming, her hand stilling in her hair now.

Once she's asleep, he sings a verse, quietly, just to see if he remembered.

_How's she doing?_ A text from Merlin.

_OK I guess. Sleeping._

_ M: Good_

_ A: Every time she visits loo it knocks her out_

_ M: Not surprising._

_ A: How was zoo?_

_ M: I got to pet a puma_

_ A: No way!_

_ M: F specializes in big cats_

_ A: She specialize in anything ELSE?_

Arthur waits. Three minutes pass before Merlin texts back.

_M: Just so I'm clear. U mean…_

_ A: Yes. That._

_ M: Not your biz_

_ A: So, then, no_

_ M: Didn't say that_

_ A: !_

_ M: :)_

_ A: WHEN?_

_ M: Last wknd_

_ A: Happy 4 U_

_ M: Thx_

_ A: U didn't tell me_

_ M: Sorry._

_ A: OK. I know U don't like to kiss & tell_

_ M: G drinking?_

_ A: Yes. Threw a bottle my head_

_ M: LOL why?_

_ A: Kept nagging her 2 drink_

_ M: Symptoms same?_

_ A: Y_

_ M: Good_

_ A: G waking up now._

_ M: Will stop in later_

_ A: OK_

Gwen rolls away and heads for the bathroom. Arthur sighs. A short time later she returns and sits on the bed. "False alarm."

"False alarm?"

"Just, um, gas." She blushes slightly. "Better safe than sorry, though."

She looks at Arthur, who looks as though he is trying not to laugh.

"What?" she says.

"There were a few, ah, 'false alarms' while you were sleeping, too," he tries to say without laughing.

"Oh, no," she blushes further and hides her face with her hands.

Arthur starts laughing in earnest now. "I thought it was cute, actually."

She looks up at him, and now she is trying not to laugh. "Cute?"

"Well, most of them were…"

Now she does laugh, in spite of herself. "Ow… Stop."

He scoots over close to her and takes her in his arms, kissing her cheek. "You know what this means, right?"

"I'm afraid to guess."

"All bets are off. Farting is now on the table."

She laughs again. "Damn it. _Stop it,_" she groans.

"Sorry."

"So let me get this straight: Vomit doesn't bother you, farting is funny, but poo grosses you out?"

"Yes."

She stares at him.

"What?" he asks.

"Surely you don't expect to be exempted from having to change diapers one day."

"Ah. Um. Hadn't really thought of that…"

She shoves him weakly, exasperated.

He looks at her and smiles warmly, suddenly thinking of a future Guinevere, adorable with a large pregnant belly. _Someday._

"Would you like a change of scenery?" he asks, decided his best bet is changing the subject.

"That depends on what you have in mind."

"Can I draw you a bath?"

"Ooo. That sounds lovely."

"Wait here." He kisses the top of her head and strides to the bathroom.

Arthur turns on the taps, adjusting the temperature to one that he _hopes_ is acceptable. _She likes it pretty hot,_ he remembers.

Opening the bathroom cupboard, he surveys the selection of bubble baths, shower gels, bath salts, and lotions. _There's a special section in hell that looks like this, I'm sure._ He reaches for a bottle, and knocks three others over in the process. As he grunts in irritation, he finds what he's looking for. Lavender bubble bath. _Of course it's in the back._ He retrieves the bottle from the shelf, rights the ones he's toppled, and squeezes some into the water.

_I have no idea how much to put in,_ he thinks with a shrug.

As the tub fills, he goes back to retrieve Gwen, who has twisted her hair up. Taking her by the hand, he leads her into the bathroom, helps her undress down to her knickers.

"You might want to go now," she says. "I'll be fine."

His brows knit for a moment, then he remembers: _Women things. Yep, I'm out of here._

He waits outside the door and hears her turn the water off and step into the tub.

"Did I get the temperature right?" he asks.

"Yes. You can come in if you want."

He does, and sits on the closed lid of the toilet.

"I didn't know how much bubble bath to put in," he admits.

"You did fine. Lavender was a good choice," her eyes are closed. "This feels excellent."

"Can I bring you anything?" he asks. Then, carefully, "Your Gatorade, maybe?"

She smiles. "Yes, thank you."


	54. Chapter 54

**A/N: I was quite amused by all of the reviews from those of you convinced that our Gwen was pregnant. :) I recommend you go back and re-read chapter 21. I just couldn't do that to her (in fact, it never even occurred to me that this could be interpreted that way until the first review dropped). And trust me: I've had food poisoning, and I've had a child. Morning sickness has NOTHING on food poisoning!**

Gwen feels slightly more energetic after her bath. She did doze off for a bit, lulled by the warm water and the scent of lavender, but she woke up before Arthur came back in to check on her. _He would have just worried._

Arthur has made up the sofa for her in the living room, and she is grateful for it.

"Thank you, I was getting tired of the bedroom," she tells him as she walks out, raking her fingers through her hair, now loose.

"I thought as much. You're looking better," he says, giving her a gentle squeeze and a kiss on the cheek. "Merlin is coming over in a bit. He's bringing me dinner, will that bother you?"

"We'll see. What's he bringing?"

"Egg salad," he teases, earning him a glare. "He mentioned something about Subway."

"Well, I can always go back to the bedroom if the smell starts to bother me," she shrugs and makes herself cozy on the couch.

"No, love, don't do that. I can call him, and—"

"Arthur, you need to eat. You don't need to starve because of me. I don't mind. Honest."

Arthur joins her on the sofa, lifting her feet and sitting down before replacing them in his lap. He rubs them gently while she channel surfs.

"That feels nice," she says, closing her eyes. Then she opens one and says, "You have to behave yourself, though. Socks stay on." She closes her eye again and listens to the commercials on the telly while Arthur works the muscles in her feet.

Arthur's phone rings. He reaches for it, growling. "Why is Morgana calling my phone?" He answers it, "Hello, Morgana."

"Yes, she's awake, and I think she's starting to feel better."

"A little," Gwen supplies.

"Here," Arthur hands her the phone and goes back to rubbing her feet.

"Is he totally smothering you?" Morgana asks.

"Not yet. I did have to, um, persuade him to stop nagging me about keeping hydrated."

"And how did you do that?"

"Threw an empty at his head."

"Yes, I remember how _charming_ you can be when you're sick," Morgana laughs.

"Hey, I'm a very nice person all the rest of the time. I'm allowed be a bitch when I'm sick if I want to," she protests. Arthur laughs loudly at this.

"Anyway, I called earlier to see how your dress fitting went last night, but you probably can't say anything with _him_ sitting right there, can you?"

"I'll try. It went very well. I'm very happy with it. The _thing_ we were debating over?"

"Yes?"

"_Fabulous._ I'm very happy we tried it."

"Oh good! So you're keeping it in?"

"Yes, definitely." Gwen notices Arthur staring, a puzzled look on his face. She rolls her eyes at him and he pouts.

"I actually did talk to Cedric for about ten seconds, but he didn't tell me _anything._ I need Freya's number, too; we need to go see him about dresses ourselves."

Gwen gives her the number, and says, "Whatever you two choose is fine with me, you know that. You know what colors we're going with."

"Yes, dear, I know. You have nothing to worry about."

There is a knock at the door.

"Come in, Merlin," Arthur calls.

"Cedric did have a message for you," Morgana continues.

"Yes?"

"He said that you are not to lose too much weight while you are ill because he is not going to completely remake the dress because you've gone and gotten emaciated."

"Oh, yes he would. He says he won't do it, but we both know he would," Gwen says. "And he doesn't need to worry; I'm sure I'll regain anything I've lost by the time of the wedding."

"He said you're just perfect right now and if you screw it up he's going to pitch a hissy."

"Don't make me laugh, Morgana, it hurts!" Gwen says, laughing.

"What are they talking about?" Merlin asks Arthur.

"I think Gwen's wedding dress. She's been talking in code for the past five minutes. What did you bring me?"

"Ah. Steak and cheese," he says, and the two men walk to the table.

"I'll stop in tomorrow afternoon and visit a bit, okay? I _promise_ it's not to babysit you," Morgana says.

"All right, see you then. Merlin just walked in anyway, and I imagine he's going to want to check and see how I'm doing under Nurse Arthur's care."

"Hey! I heard that!" Arthur calls from the kitchen.

"See you tomorrow, Gwenny."

"Have a good night, Morgana. Tell Wayne hello for us."

"I want you to try and have some of this soup," Merlin comes back into the living room, holding the container of soup.

"Really?" Gwen asks, unsure.

"At least some of the broth. You need the nutrients."

"Ugh. More liquid. I feel like I'm floating already."

"Well, in that case, it's a good thing I brought," he says, scuttling back to the kitchen and returning a moment later with a box in his hands, "saltines!"

"Hooray…" Gwen says unenthusiastically. She snuggles down onto the couch, watching, against all logic, a cooking show. She hears Merlin rummaging in the kitchen, assumedly fixing Gwen's dinner.

"When did you get a ladle?" Merlin asks.

"When Gwen moved in," Arthur explains.

"Figures."

Merlin comes in a couple minutes later, carrying a mug and a small paper plate with some crackers on it. "Supper," he tells Gwen, and she lifts herself up to a seated position as Arthur wanders in, sitting in the chair, watching Merlin and Gwen.

"Mmm, nice and hot," Gwen says, taking the mug. "I hate it when soup is only warm. Soup should be _hot._" She smells it, and her stomach only protests a little.

"Okay?" Merlin asks. He puts his hand to her forehead, still finding no fever.

"We'll see," Gwen says, taking a very small sip.

"Your color is better," he says, studying her. "Any new symptoms?" he asks.

"No. No other maladies have befallen me since this morning." _Nothing to do with food poisoning, anyway,_ Gwen thinks.

"When was the last time you…"

"I vomited around noon. But since then, nothing."

"That's good. Very good. And I'm not going to ask about the Gatorade," he smiles.

"He told you, huh?"

"Thought it was hilarious. How's the soup going down?"

"So far, so good. It's really tasty. Thank your mum for me."

"I will."

"Merlin, tell Gwen what you got to do today," Arthur suggests, poking his friend in the leg with his toe.

"I got to pet a puma."

Gwen smiles. "You went and visited Freya."

"Yep. I got to see the Siberian tiger, the puma, and the panther, all up close. The only one tame enough for me to touch was the puma. I really wanted to see the tiger closer, but she said that would be too dangerous."

"Yes, Ivan. She told me about him. The zookeepers call him 'Ivan the Terrible.' She's the only one he likes." Gwen chuckles. "That woman and her cats," she mutters, shaking her head before taking another sip of soup.

"I know, you should have seen her! They behaved like housecats around her. That tiger actually _purred_ when she went in. She was there to give him a bloody great shot and he nuzzled her stomach with his head and _purred! _He was as big as she is; she had to reach _up_ to scratch him behind the ears!"

"I imagine you're spending quite a bit of money on zoo fare, eh?" Gwen smiles and tries a bite of cracker.

"Nah, I get in free now," he grins. "She gave me a card. All I have to do is show it to the attendant and I can walk right in as if I own the place."

"Ooo, look at you, all posh with your free zoo admission," she teases.

"She [_is_ feeling better," Merlin laughs. He stands, saying, "Arthur, your sandwich is getting cold." He slaps Arthur on the shoulder as he walks past him to the kitchen where their dinner is waiting.

"Go ahead, love, I'm good," Gwen tells him. He comes over to her and leans down to kiss her forehead.

She grabs his collar, preventing from standing, and whispers, "They _did_, didn't they?"

"Yup." He bends further down, kissing the side of her neck, before going back to eat.

After dinner, Merlin goes home (or to Freya's; he's a bit vague on that detail), and Arthur joins Guinevere on the sofa, sitting behind her so she can nestle against him. They don't talk much, but they are comfortable in their silence, the television the only sound in the room. Arthur toys idly with her hair now and then, winding a curl around his finger, holding a lock to his upper lip as if it were a mustache, which makes Gwen laugh painfully once again; even attempting to braid it at one point.

"Really, Arthur, it's not difficult," she says, untangling the mess he's made.

"Clearly it's a skill that a man is not designed to have," he decides.

"So, the millions of male hairdressers and fathers – including my own – out there that have no problem accomplishing this simple task would be…?" Gwen goads him.

"I'm sorry, I don't speak your language," he says, avoiding the question. She pinches him in response.

"Ow!" he says, but then wraps his arms around her and she rests her head back against his shoulder and closes her eyes.

He reaches up and strokes her cheek with the backs of his fingers, down to her neck where he rests his hand and reaches up with his thumb to caress her cheek again.

"Yes. I think I've decided," he says after a time.

"Decided what?"

"Which I like best. How your skin feels," he caresses her face and neck again, as if proving his point. "How you smell is a _very_ close second, though."

Despite napping much of the day, Gwen is exhausted and falls asleep quickly, wrapped in Arthur's arms. Arthur doesn't fall asleep so quickly, unhappy about having to go to work the next day.

_I could phone in… No. She'd just get mad at me. I'll still get to spend the morning with her. I hate leaving her under normal circumstances, but even more so now that she's ill. _He holds her close, rubbing her back gently, and she snuggles against him in her sleep, content. Arthur closes his eyes. _She'll be fine._

FRIDAY

_No, not again,_ Guinevere wakes up, her stomach pinching uncomfortably. She'd been so happy that the soup she drank stayed put, and now it seems it wants out. With a frustrated sigh, she disentangles herself from Arthur's embrace, and staggers to the bathroom.

When she returns, she is hot, and she pulls the pajama bottoms off, leaving them on the floor before climbing into bed again.

"Everything all right?" Arthur asks.

"I didn't know you were awake," she says, turning to him.

"You were in there for a bit…" he pulls her to him, gently.

"Dry heaves," she rests her head on his shoulder.

"I _hate_ those. That's almost worse than actually vomiting. All the work and none of the payoff."

Gwen chuckles, saying, "I can do without the payoff right now, too, thank you."

He hugs her to him, and his hand slides down to her backside. "Where are your trousers?"

"On the floor. I'm hot."

"Yes, you are," he says suggestively.

She slaps his chest weakly and smiles against his chest.

"Go back to sleep, love."

SUNDAY

Arthur returns home from the firehouse to find Gwen and Morgana playing Mario Kart.

"Ah, so you found the Wii," he laughs, dropping into a chair. He laughs even harder as Morgana drives off the side of a bridge, plunging Princess Peach and her little pink car into the black oblivion beyond.

"She's kicking my ass," Morgana moans.

"I've been playing on and off since last night," Gwen says, her little green Yoshi on his motorbike zipping past a random opponent as she crosses the finish line in first place. She sets the controller down. "I've been [i]really[i] bored," she says, looking at Arthur.

"So you're feeling better?" he asks, coming to kiss her cheek. She turns her face, kissing him on the lips. "Guess so," he smiles, kissing her again.

"Thank you for the flowers," she tells him, and he grins proudly. Yesterday an arrangement of daisies and other cheerfully bright-colored flowers was delivered with a card saying, _I miss you. Feel better. –A._

"And look, I'm even dressed," she points at her clothes, her black capris and a plain grey v-neck t-shirt.

"Kind of," Morgana clarifies; setting her own controller down, just having crossed the finish line herself, in last place.

"What? I could be seen in public like this," Gwen protests. Morgana rolls her eyes.

"Eating yet?" he asks.

"Not much yesterday morning, just some tea. A bowl of cereal at lunch. But I told you that yesterday when you called," she recalls. "I had some more of that soup last night, actually eating more than just the broth, with some toast. Everything stayed put, too." She smiles at him.

"Have you had lunch?" he asks.

"I was waiting for you. I'm thinking macaroni and cheese."

"Swanky," he says, "I'll go put on some water to boil, then. I'm hungry."

"Are you sure you can manage?" she teases.

"I think I can handle putting water in a pot and putting it on the stove."

Morgana's mobile bursts forth with the chorus of "I'm Sexy and I Know It", and she scrambles to answer it.

"Wayne," Arthur and Gwen say to each other simultaneously.

Morgana grins at them and answers the phone. She stands, blows them a kiss, and rushes out of the door.

"Father's birthday is Friday," Arthur mentions over lunch. "Will the photo be ready by then?"

"Mm-hmm," she nods, chewing. She swallows, then says, "They called yesterday. I'm going to pick it up tomorrow."

"I can do that. I'm not working, you know."

_No, you can't. _"Don't worry about it. I have some other things to pick up tomorrow anyway."

He raises an eyebrow at her.

"Eat your lunch and don't ask questions," she commands.

"Yes, ma'am. We should take him to dinner," he suggests, tactfully dropping the subject.

"Can we invite my father? They seem to be getting on so well," she says.

"Of course. Let me call my father first and make sure he's free," he says, reaching for his phone. "Sorry, mealtimes are often the best time to catch him," he explains as he dials.


	55. Chapter 55

FRIDAY

_Can you come home early? _Arthur sends Gwen a text shortly after lunch. He and Merlin had rescheduled their fencing practice to this morning, followed by lunching together, so Gwen hasn't seen or heard from Arthur since she left for work.

Gwen is out amongst the shelves when his text comes through, vibrating once in her pocket. She slips it out quickly and reads the message with a sigh.

_Maybe_ she sends back, then continues reshelving the books in her hands.

As she shelves the last one, her phone vibrates again.

_Please?_

She wrinkles her brow, then goes back to her office, closing the door. She pulls her phone out and rings Arthur.

"Is something wrong?" she asks him.

"No. I just want you to come home."

"Arthur…"

"I know, you're working."

"You're _that_ lonely?"

"Maybe."

"Arthur, you're an only child. I thought that only children were good at amusing themselves."

"I'd much rather be amusing you."

_So now we have it. He wants me to come home so he can have his wicked way with me before dinner. Can I be selfish and knock out of here early for such a reason? Well, I_ can, _but_ should _I?_

"Guinevere?"

"I'm thinking."

"Okay."

"Three o'clock," she finally says. _I think I can actually hear him smile._

"Oh, good."

"I'll see you soon, Arthur. If I'm leaving early, I should get back to work now."

"Love you," he says.

"I love you, too."

Gwen comes home at three fifteen, and the flat is dark and quiet.

"Arthur?" she calls, closing the door and taking her shoes off. _What is he up to? The door wasn't locked, so he's definitely home._ She goes down the hall to the bedroom, where she finds Arthur waiting for her by candlelight.

"Hi," he says, walking to her and pulling her into his embrace.

"You had me come home early so you could seduce me," she says. She is not asking; she is stating fact.

"Well, it kind of developed into that." He kisses her cheek. "At first I just missed you and wanted some time with you to myself before I had to share you with our fathers." He kisses her lips. "Then my mind got to wandering, thinking about how we could spend that time…" he kisses her neck. Then he kisses it again, lower, and her eyes drift closed while she angles her head to allow him better access.

Her hair is up, and he takes full advantage, kissing his way from one side of her neck to the other, around the back, walking around her as he does so. Guinevere sighs as she feels his hands drag around her waist as he circles her, his lips sending heated chills down her body.

Arthur places a warm, wet kiss in the hollow of her throat where her collarbones meet before returning his lips to hers, open and wanting, plunging his tongue into the warmth of her mouth. He holds her body flush against his, his hands roving her back, groping for a zipper or buttons or something he can unfasten.

He breaks away, looking down at what she is wearing. A dress, with buttons down the front. He groans, and starts undoing them while Gwen laughs at him and pulls his shirt off.

"You don't need to open them all," Gwen whispers when Arthur reaches her waist. He stops and she shrugs out of the top of the dress and it slides down to her hips, where she gives it a gentle shove and it falls, pooling at her feet. She kicks it to one side.

Arthur's hands return to her, his palms flat on her stomach, slipping around her waist to her back. Eyes locked together, she opens the fly on his shorts and pushes them down, along with his underwear. He kicks them to the side, beside her dress.

He slides his hands up her back to unfasten her bra, removing it expertly just before her hand finds him, enclosing his length in her hand. He breathes in sharply, then exhales her name. His hands skim down her back, exploring her backside, eagerly discovering the thong she has on, toying with it briefly before sliding it down over her hips. Gwen leans up and kisses his neck, trailing kisses along his collarbone to his shoulder.

Suddenly Arthur turns her around in his arms so her back is to him and pulls her against him again. He brings one hand to her breast, running his palm across the taut nipple, the friction sending fire directly to her core. She leans her head back against his shoulder and moans softly as he gently squeezes the soft flesh, kissing her neck and nibbling her ear, while his other hand works its way lower.

She presses back against his erection as his hand finds its destination, slipping his fingers between her legs, into the sensitive folds there. Her knees go weak at his touch and he grins into her neck with satisfaction.

"Arthur…" she breathes, reaching behind them, grabbing his buttocks in one hand, pulling him against her again, pressing his manhood into her back.

His hand at her breast moves across to pay attention to the other one, while his hand below continues turning her into a puddle of need, his fingers alternating between caressing her most sensitive point and thrusting deep inside her. He kisses her neck, her ear, administering gentle bites and delicious licks to her soft skin.

Gwen can hardly stand up any more. Arthur senses this and he spins her around again so she is facing him, and he bends his knees and lifts her in his arms, holding her under her rear. She wraps her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, holding on, and claims his lips with her own, tongues seeking one another, their lips now swollen and over-sensitized.

With Gwen holding onto his neck, Arthur reaches down and positions her over him, and she slides down around him with a mutual groan of satisfaction. He repositions his hands again, holding her, helping her ride atop him while he works at maintaining his balance. He hardly notices her slight weight, but the motion makes standing a challenge, especially with no wall to lean on this time.

He ducks his head and reaches for a breast with his mouth, catching it briefly, frustratingly, and he decides they had better move.

"Gwen," he gasps, trying to hold her still at her hips.

"Arthur?" Her eyes are dilated and dazed with passion.

"Hold on." He wraps his arms around her tightly, and walks the few steps to the bed, still rooted within her.

"Oh!" she gasps, the motion creating a new sensation.

Arthur is intrigued, but remains practical. _There is no way I'm walking around like this any more than I have to. Much too difficult._

At the bed, Arthur leans forward carefully, laying her back on the bed. He thrusts his hips forward into her as she lands, causing her to cry out again.

Smiling, he leans forward to finally kiss her breasts the way he wants to, and she arches up against him, loving the feel of his tongue and teeth as they create wave after wave of sensation against her nipples. "Arthur…" she gasps, grabbing his head and pulling his hair.

He moans against her, her hands in his hair only spurring him on. He lifts his head and straightens up a bit to resume driving into her in earnest.

"Oh… yes… oh… Arthur…"

"Tell me," he gasps.

"_Harder,_" she demands. He complies happily, and her hands come up to grasp at his chest, his sides, pulling him towards her.

He does as he is told, leaning over her, thrusting forcefully, kissing her with equal force and passion. She begins whimpering into his mouth, approaching her climax, and she bites his lower lip almost painfully.

"Ah!" he exclaims, the slight pain forcing his eyes open in surprise as she releases his lip and moves to kiss his neck, grasping at his shoulders.

Her climax hits and she sinks her teeth into his shoulder with another urgent whimpering noise in the back of her throat, followed by another, "Oh!"

Arthur hardly notices the bite as he is releasing into her at the same time, growling like a caged animal before he collapses over her, exhausted.

"You were awfully bite-y this afternoon, my love," he teases her, caressing her back as she snuggles against him. They are lying sideways across the bed, where they had landed earlier.

"Sorry," she giggles into his chest.

"Quite all right. It just means that I'm _that_ good," he says smugly. She yanks a few of his chest hairs in response.

"Ow!" He grabs her hand and lifts it to his lips. He looks at the clock. _Dinner reservations are at seven. We have time for a nap,_ he thinks, his eyes heavy.

"Arthur, what…" Gwen exclaims as he rolls her on top of him again, then scoots them both over to lie on the bed properly, heads on the pillows.

"I was thinking of a nap, but now that I've got you here, I'm beginning to think again," he says, eyes twinkling.

"A nap sounds good, actua—" he cuts her off with a kiss, his hands resting on her backside. He continues to kiss her until there is nothing left in either of their minds but desire, his hands squeezing, caressing, teasing her skin until it feels like it is crying out for his touch everywhere at once.

Gwen moans into his neck, kissing it, as she feels him growing hard beneath her again, nudging her stomach. She opens her eyes for a moment and notices the teeth marks on his shoulder. She gasps in surprise, and he starts.

"What's wrong?" he asks, alarmed, checking her over for injury. "Did I hurt you? What—"

"Arthur, I'm fine. I just, um, noticed… teeth marks. On your shoulder." She blushes and drops her head onto his chest.

"What? Oh," he looks down, over at his left shoulder, and sure enough, the evidence of Guinevere's passion is there, clear as day. Arthur reaches across, over Gwen's head, and touches it. _Doesn't hurt._ He starts laughing, and squeezes her.

"At least it's not someplace visible," he laughs, lifting her face to his, eager to resume the activities he had started.

"Arthur, wake up. We have to get ready for dinner," Gwen whispers in his ear, still cuddled to his side. They both dropped off to sleep almost immediately after they'd made love a second time, and Gwen is glad she woke up. _That would have been embarrassing. 'Sorry we're late to the birthday dinner we invited you to, we fell asleep after having sex twice this afternoon because I ducked out of work early.' Yes, very nice._

Arthur tightens his arms around her, not wanting to leave the bed. She shoves him. "_Arthur._ We have an hour. Get your ass _up,_" she says, laughing. Then when he lifts just his bum from the bed, doing exactly as he has been told, she laughs more, and shoves him again.

Gwen manages to worm her way out of his grasp, and gets up to dress and make herself look presentable again. In the process, she yanks the covers back, off of Arthur, exposing him to the rapidly-cooling late summer air. She gathers her underthings and goes to the bathroom.

"Not fair!" he yells down the hall at her.

"Get dressed," she yells back from the bathroom.

He gets up, groaning, wanting nothing more than to stay in that bed with her the rest of the evening, just holding her close to him. _Who's idea was it to have this dinner, anyway?_ he thinks, grumpy. _Right. Mine._

Arthur is buttoning his shirt as Gwen comes back into the bedroom in her bra and panties, hair now redone with the back long and the top pulled loosely back, away from her face. She selects a dress of a soft light blue that matches Arthur's eyes.

"Is that new?" he asks, coming over to zip her up.

"Yes, do you like it?" she twirls for him. It's a simple dress with a fitted bodice, scoop neck and short sleeves. The skirt flares slightly and ends just above her knees. There is a rosette at the waist made of the same fabric as the rest of the dress, off to one side, not large, but lending interest to the otherwise plain dress.

"Well, it's not as good as the red one, but I do like it a lot," he says, and she can feel his eyes roving over her body as if they were his hands.

"Thank you," she says, reaching up to fix his collar, half of which is flipped inside his shirt.

He bends down and kisses her sweetly. "You are always beautiful," he says quietly, smiling down at her.

She smiles back at him, and her smile turns into a smirk as she asks, "Even when I'm retching my guts out at three a.m.?"

He kisses her again. "Even then."

They arrive at the recently re-opened Luigi's ten minutes early, before their fathers arrive. Uther arrives next, followed shortly by Tom, and they are promptly seated.

"Happy birthday, Mr. Pendragon," Gwen says, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

"Well, that's all the gift I need, thank you, my dear," Uther chuckles, and Tom and Gwen both laugh with him. Arthur laughs a little, still not quite used to his father's mysterious affection for his fiancée.

"Oh, well, then, I guess we don't need to give you this, then, do we?" Arthur says, holding his father's gift aloft.

"Now, let's not be hasty," he says, reaching for it. Just then the waiter arrives to take drink orders. Once he's gone, Uther unwraps the box and opens the lid.

Arthur and Gwen hold their breath, not sure how he's going to react.

Uther stares at it, his face blank. His jaw twitches once, and Arthur is certain he's going to start shouting any minute.

Tom leans over to take a look. "That is beautiful," he says quietly.

"Yes," Uther finally says, "it is. It's beautiful." He looks up at Arthur. "Where did you find this? I thought I'd lost it."

"Guinevere found it, in the wardrobe at the cottage. She had her things in there and she just sort of happened upon it. We've had it restored for you. We're, um, hoping that you'll find a good place to display it."

Uther looks at Gwen, then back to Arthur. "This was my favorite picture. You have no idea… Yes, I will. I know just where I'll put it. And then I'll have to find a good place for it at the _new_ house," he finally smiles.

"Father… are you crying?" Arthur teases gently.

Uther clears his throat. "Certainly not! Someone must be, um, cutting onions nearby," he protests.

"Thank you both. It's lovely. The restoration is perfect, and the frame is beautiful."

"That was all Gwen," Arthur says, looking at her and placing his hand over hers.

"It was surprisingly easy to find a gift for a man who has everything already," Gwen says, grinning impishly.

"My turn," Tom says, swinging a gift bag up onto the table. "Couldn't arrive empty-handed, now, could I?"

"Thank you, Tom," Uther says, and reaches into the bag. He withdraws a bottle of fine cognac. "_Very_ nice," he says, nodding.

"There's more," Tom says, tipping the bag, and two exquisite cigars land on the table.

"Cuban?" he asks, lifting one to smell it.

"Of course," Tom replies.

"Next time we golf, then," Uther nods.

"Ah, yes, golf. I _really_ wanted to buy you a new short game for your birthday, but the shop was all out," he teases.

Arthur and Gwen watch their fathers interact, curious and a little stunned.

"Oh! This from the man who cannot putt his way out of a paper bag!" Uther exclaims.

"Honestly, the man has a beautiful tee shot, and his putting is, oh, above average, but put a wedge in his hands at 100 yards to the pin and you'd think he was swinging one of _these,_" he holds up a breadstick, "at the ball," Tom explains to Arthur and Gwen.

Arthur nods, pretending to understand, and Gwen laughs.

Over dessert, Tom asks Arthur and Gwen about honeymoon plans. "Any place special in mind?"

"Well, Guinevere has mentioned Hawaii, and I've always wanted to go there myself. We're also talking about Italy. But I think we're both leaning towards Hawaii, especially considering the time of year."

"We're going to wait until after the move before we go, so it'll be November. So a tropical climate would be most welcome," Gwen explains.

Tom hands them a business card for a travel agent. "Go see this woman. She'll set everything up for you. On me."

"Daddy, no…" Gwen says, tears coming to her eyes.

"Guinevere, yes," he insists. "I can't have this one show me up, you know," he indicates Uther, winking at her.

"Oh, so that's it, is it? I give them a house so you give them two weeks in paradise?" Uther laughs.

"_Two weeks?_" Arthur sputters. "Thank you, Tom, really, I'm speechless."

"Not at all, Arthur, I'm happy to…" he trails off, looking uncomfortable. He pulls at his collar.

"Daddy? Are you all right?" Gwen asks, reaching across the table to him.

"I'm just… having some trouble… breathing…" he blinks a few times, and he puts his hand to his chest. "Feels tight…"

"Dizzy?" Arthur asks, watching him intently. Tom nods, beads of sweat standing out on his brow.

Gwen stands and crosses to him, kneeling beside him and taking his hand.

"Father, dial 999; I think he's having a heart attack!" Arthur orders, and surprisingly, Uther quickly pulls his phone out and dials.

"Excuse me, please! Does anyone have any aspirin? Proper aspirin, not Tylenol," Arthur stands and announces to the restaurant. _People are already starting to stare, so why not?_ he thinks.

An elderly woman seated with her husband nearby says, "Yes, young man, I have some," and digs into her purse.

Arthur rushes over to her. "Two, please, if you can spare them," he asks.

"Of course, here you are." She places them in his waiting hand.

"Thank you very much," he says as he rushes away.

He comes back to the table and crushes the tablets between two spoons. He glances at Tom. His eyes are closed and he appears to be in pain, gritting his teeth.

"I know it tastes terrible, but take it anyway." He pours the powder into Tom's mouth, who winces at the bitter taste, then gives him his glass of water to drink.

"Please, Daddy, hold on," Gwen says, and they hear the sirens approaching.

Uther notices the waiter and the manager standing nearby, and he turns to them. "That ambulance you hear is for this man. Make sure they can get to us," he barks at them, and they hurry off.

Gwen goes with her father in the ambulance, looking back at Arthur as she climbs in.

"I'll be right behind you, love, go." He rushes back into the restaurant, drops some bills onto the table, guessing at the amount and probably well overpaying. He blows a kiss to the lady who had given him the aspirin before he runs back out the door to find his father standing under the canopy with his parcels, watching the ambulance.

"I'm coming with you," Uther says, following quickly as Arthur jogs to his car.


	56. Chapter 56

"You didn't need to come along, you know," Arthur says as he drives behind the ambulance, skillfully staying right with it as it screams toward the hospital. _Usually I'm doing this in a fire truck,_ he thinks.

"Arthur, there are few people in this world that I can truly call 'friend.' _Very_ few," Uther says.

"I'm sure Tom will thank you for it," Arthur says, pulling into a parking spot near the emergency entrance.

They walk quickly to the entrance, just in time to see Tom being wheeled through the interior doors as a nurse argues with Guinevere in the waiting area.

"I'm sorry, miss, but you can't go back with him. We'll come get you as soon as he's stabilized. Please," the nurse says, blocking Gwen's path.

Arthur rushes to her and puts his hands on her trembling shoulders. "Thank you," he tells the nurse and gently leads Gwen to the waiting area.

Uther sits silent and stone-faced while Arthur sits beside Gwen, his arms around her. She isn't crying any more; she is sitting silently, staring, clutching her phone in her hands. Arthur sees the whiteness of her knuckles and thinks she may crush the phone in her slender hands.

_Elliot._ Arthur reaches down and eases her mobile from her hands and checks the call log. She's tried calling him three times.

"He's not answering," Gwen says weakly. Arthur kisses her cheek tenderly and goes outside with the phone. _No service inside._

He tries Elliot's number again. It rings twice, then goes to voice mail. _So he's there, he's just dismissing the call. Fine. I'll just stalk him until he answers._ He dials again. Voice mail. Again. And again. Finally, on the fifth try, his persistence pays off.

"What _is_ it, Guinevere?" Elliot's voice comes through the phone, annoyed and slightly slurred. Arthur can distinctly here the sounds of a nightclub in the background.

"Elliot, it's Arthur," he says. By now he's thoroughly irritated with his future brother-in-law, and he's not bothering to hide it.

"Arthur? What's going on?"

"Your father's had a heart attack."

"_What?_" he says, then to someone on his end of the line, "Get _off_ me."

"Your father has had a heart attack, Elliot."

Arthur hears the sounds of the club disappear with the sound of a door closing. They are replaced with the sounds of cars and pedestrians.

"Is he…"

"They're attending him right now. Are you in London?"

"Yes."

"Then you have two options, as far as I can see. You can put your sorry drunken arse into a taxi and have it bring you here to St. Sebastian's. Or you can go back into the club and try to enjoy yourself, knowing that you'll have to deal with your sister in the morning." He pauses. "I know which one I would choose, mate."

"I'll be right there," Elliot says, and Arthur even hears him climb into the taxi and give instructions to the driver.

"Emergency entrance," Arthur reminds him.

"Got it. Thanks, mate."

Arthur comes back in to the waiting area and announces, "He's on his way." As he approaches, he sees his father is now seated beside Gwen, holding her hand.

"What's this? Moving in on my girl while I'm outside stalking her brother?"

This forces a laugh from Gwen and Uther smiles as he releases her hand and moves over to allow Arthur to resume his place beside her.

"He's not drunk, is he?" Gwen says, taking her phone back.

"Well, he's not completely pissed, because I could reason with him. But he's not completely sober, either."

Gwen sighs. "How many times did you call before he answered?"

"Five."

"Remind me to slap him one when I see him."

Gwen cannot sit still. She paces, she twirls her hair, she peeks through the windows on the doors leading back into the emergency room, she taps her feet, she goes to the window and watches for Elliot.

"Gwen, love, come sit," Arthur says, holding his hand out for her.

"I can't," she says, pacing back and forth, chewing her fingernails anxiously. "Too long. They're taking too long."

"Be patient. You don't want them to rush." Arthur tries to comfort her, but he is almost as worried as she is. Uther is still strangely quiet, staring into space, lost in thought. Occasionally he pokes at his phone, checking email, making notes.

"Here comes Elliot," Gwen says from her current position at the front window.

Elliot comes in, a bit sweaty and smelling slightly of alcohol. He immediately walks to Gwen and hugs her.

She hugs him, then pulls away and smacks his arm, scolding, "When I call you, you _answer_ the bloody phone!"

"Ow! Sorry," he apologizes, but he sounds more annoyed than remorseful.

Gwen is standing with her hands on her hips, scowling up at him. "Elliot, give me some credit. I would never call you on a Friday night unless it was for a _very_ important reason. Honestly." She rolls her eyes and goes to sit beside Arthur.

"Sorry, Gwenny, I shouldn't have ignored your call. Any news yet?"

"No," she sighs, leaning forward, resting her chin in her hands, her elbows on her knees. Arthur reaches over and strokes her back, and she leans into him. He puts his arm around her shoulder.

Elliot sits across from them, fidgeting. "What happened?" he asks.

"We were at dinner. It's my father's birthday," Arthur says, indicating Uther, who gives Elliot a brief wave. "We were having dessert, talking about the wedding, when your father started feeling off. Uncomfortable. Bad."

Arthur's retelling is cut off when the doctor comes into the waiting room. "Miss Thomas?" he calls.

Gwen jumps up and goes to the doctor, Elliot close behind. "Yes?"

"Your father is stable. He's resting now, and we'll be moving him to a room shortly."

Gwen sighs and slumps, and Elliot holds her elbow.

"His heart attack was moderate, but he'll be fine. He's going to have to make some modifications to his diet and lifestyle, of course."

"I'll make sure he sticks to it," Gwen says.

"I'm certain of that," the doctor smiles. "I understand he was given some aspirin shortly after he started showing symptoms?"

"Yes, my fiancé found some and gave it to him," Gwen tells him.

The doctor looks at Elliot, and is about to say something to him, but Elliot interrupts. "Not me, mate. I'm not marrying her, she's my sister."

While Elliot laughs at the doctor's mistake, Gwen looks back and reaches her hand out. "Arthur?"

He walks over and stands beside her. She takes his hand in both of hers.

"I gave him the aspirin, yes. Is there a problem?" Arthur asks the doctor.

"No, not at all. I'm just curious how you knew to do that. Do you have any medical training?"

"I'm a fireman, so I am trained in first aid," he explains. "And my best friend is a registered nurse and EMT, so I've probably picked up quite a bit from him." Arthur shrugs casually.

"Well, young man, your actions definitely prevented Tom's heart attack from becoming more severe. You may have even saved his life. Thank you."

"Not at all," Arthur waves his hand, refusing any praise. "I was just doing what I'm trained to do, that's all."

The doctor smiles, then turns his attention to Gwen. "You can go back and see him now," he tells her.

"Please," Gwen says, and the three of them start to follow the doctor back.

"I'm sorry, young man, only immediate family can come back. You'll have to wait until he's moved to his room," the doctor tells Arthur.

"But—" Gwen start to protest.

"It's all right, Guinevere, I'll be waiting out here for you." He leans down and kisses her, then sends her back to see her father.

Arthur goes back to sit by his father, and as he passes the admission desk, a young man in an EMT uniform speaks to him.

"Excuse me, you were talking about a man who is a nurse and an EMT?" the man asks. Arthur hadn't noticed him there before, standing and doing some paperwork at the desk. He is a curious combination of odd-looking yet nondescript, with light brown hair and strange eyes that look like they are a little too close together.

"Um, yes, I did. My friend Merlin," Arthur stops and answers.

"Merlin _Emrys_?" he asks.

"Do you know any other Merlins running around London?" Arthur smiles.

"I suppose not," the man laughs. "We trained together, Merlin and me," he explains.

"Oh, well, I'll have to tell him I ran into you. You are…?"

"Gilbert Lee," he extends his hand, and Arthur shakes it. "Gil, preferably."

"Arthur Pendragon," Arthur introduces himself. "Were you one of the ones that brought in my future father-in-law?"

"Black man, heart attack?" Gil asks.

"Yes, that's the one."

"Yes. He was a trooper. His daughter, too. We get so many crazies in this business, and it's nice to have a case where they let us do our jobs, you know?"

"Yeah, mate, I know. I'm sure you heard me say I'm a firefighter, so…"

"So, yeah, you do know," he chuckles. "He was great, though. And she was so helpful. In that she didn't _try_ to help us. She sat there and just held his hand and stayed out of our way. Cute bird, too, if you don't mind my saying," he grins.

"Yes, she is, and no, I don't," Arthur smiles back.

"Gil! That paperwork done yet, mate?" A voice calls from the door.

"One second," he calls back.

"I'll let you get back to it. Nice meeting you," Arthur says.

"Hey, tell Merlin I said hello."

"Will do."

"Daddy!" Gwen breathes with relief, rushing to him as soon as she can see him.

"Hey, Princess," he says weakly. "Elliot! I didn't know you were in town," he says, only mildly reproachful.

"I only just got in this afternoon," he says, going to hug his father.

"You've been drinking?" Tom says, catching a whiff of his son.

"Of course," Elliot laughs, "But they caught me before I really got rolling."

Tom reaches up and slaps his son lightly on the back of his head.

"Ow! Hey!"

"I'm so glad you're okay," Gwen says, interrupting them and wiping tears from her eyes. She receives a grateful look from her brother for not telling their father how hard it was to reach him.

"Yeah, you're going to have to put up with me for a few more years at least," he jokes, closing his eyes.

"Just rest, Dad," Gwen says, holding his hand.

"Heart attack can wipe you out," Tom says, smiling slightly.

"Dad, did they tell you that Arthur saved your life?" Elliot says.

"Hmm? Oh, yes, I told them what he did and they were all very impressed. Our Gwenny is in very good hands, yes?"

"Yes, it seems so," Elliot says. Gwen blushes slightly, remembering Arthur's demeanor in the waiting room. _It was like he didn't realize the magnitude of what he'd done. So casual, 'Just doing my job,' not seeking praise. His humble attitude just makes his actions all the more wonderful to me._

"Mr. Thomas? We'll be taking you to your room now." A nurse and another attendant approach.

"One moment," Tom says to the nurse. Then, to Gwen and Elliot, "Go home, kids. You don't need to hang about here. Let me go to my room and rest."

"You're sure?" Gwen asks.

"Yes. Get out of here. Oh, and Gwen, will you do me one favor?"

"Of course, anything."

"Go get my car from the restaurant and take it to my house."

"Dad! _That's_ what you want?"

"I don't want my Jaguar sitting in a restaurant parking lot all night. It might get towed."

Gwen rolls her eyes and sighs. "Fine. Arthur and I will take care of it before we go home. But _I_ get to drive your car, not him," she declares.

Tom laughs, knowing she loves his car. "Of course. Just make sure you move the seat back when you're done so I don't break my kneecaps when I get in next time."

Gwen leans in and kisses his cheek awkwardly, trying to avoid the breathing tubes taped to his face. "We'll be in to see you tomorrow morning."

Elliot gives his father another hug, saying, "I'm in town all weekend, so I'll be back, too."

"Good. Now get out of here so these people can do their jobs. I love you both."

"Love you, too, dad," they both say.

"Morgana, he's fine, I promise."

Gwen and Elliot find Arthur and Uther just outside the doors, Arthur on the phone with Morgana, apparently struggling to get his words in through her characteristic barrage of questions.

"We'll let you know when we go tomorrow, you can come with us."

"Yes. Gwen, will you talk to this crazy woman, please?" He hands the phone to Gwen.

"He's fine. Moderate heart attack."

"Yes, he was actually in town. And once he _finally_ answered his phone, he came out," she looks pointedly at him. _You may be safe from Dad, but not Morgana._

"Morgana. _Morgana._ We have to go. It's late. I'm exhausted."

"Yes, I will call you tomorrow. 'Bye."

"_Goodbye,_ Morgana." She hangs up on her and hands the phone back to Arthur with a sigh.

As soon as his phone is in his pocket again, Guinevere jumps and throws her arms around his neck. Surprised, he wraps his arms around her waist out of pure reflex, hugging her to him. She kisses him several times and whispers, "Thank you, Arthur," before dropping her head to his shoulder, burying her face in his neck.


	57. Chapter 57

"You're lucky you weren't pulled over," Arthur says to her after they see Tom's car safely into his garage.

"I was careful. What about you earlier, following the ambulance like you were in your fire truck?" she counters as they walk back to Arthur's car.

"Oh. You noticed that, huh?"

"Of course I did. You were right behind us."

Arthur smirks as he opens the passenger door of his car for Gwen, closing it gently after her, before he goes around to the driver's side and climbs in himself.

They ride in silence for a short time, then Gwen says, "Good thing we had that nap, eh?"

Arthur chuckles, saying, "See, if you hadn't skipped out of work early, you'd be asleep on your feet right now."

"Imagine that: your randiness actually served a purpose."

"Hey!" he laughs, turning a corner.

Arthur goes quiet again. _Something is on his mind, _Gwen thinks. She looks across at him, waiting.

"Do you want to know what my father was doing while we were waiting?" Arthur says, sensing her gaze on him.

"You mean with his mobile? I assumed he was working," she shrugs.

"Well, some. But he was mainly arranging a large donation to the cardiology department at the hospital."

"What?" Gwen stares at Arthur.

"An anonymous donation." _I can hardly believe it myself._

"_What?_ Really?"

Stopped at a traffic light, Arthur turns and looks at her. She looks as shocked as he feels. "I _know._ Usually when my father drops a wad of cash somewhere, he wants the world to know where it came from. He said that this was no one's business but his."

"Wow." Gwen is genuinely touched.

"It seems you've turned both our lives upside down, my love," he smiles at her, and the light changes. Guinevere squeezes his leg under her hand, and he puts his hand atop hers, rubbing his thumb lightly along the back of it.

It is nearly midnight when they return home, and Gwen is dead on her feet. She shuffles back to the bedroom and is about to flop down on the bed when she sees the gift she had left there for Arthur. _I'd forgotten all about it!_ She pretended to have forgotten something when they were about to leave, and went back to put Arthur's copy of his parents' photo, a smaller version, also framed and wrapped, on the bed for when they returned home.

Arthur is right behind her, and he notices the box immediately. "What's this?" he asks, going to retrieve it. "Guinevere?" he raises an eyebrow at her.

She smiles and says, "In all the excitement tonight, I'd actually forgotten about this. Open it."

"What's it for?" he asks.

"Just _open_ it."

He peels back the paper and opens the box. His smile is much more immediate than Uther's had been.

"Thank you," he says softly, lifting it from the box.

"I knew you would want your own copy."

"I did." He traces his mother's cheek with his finger, then looks up and says, "Oh! _This_ is why I couldn't go pick up Father's picture!"

"Well, _yeah,_ that would have ruined the surprise."

He sets the photo down and pulls her into his arms. "I do love you so much, Guinevere," he says, bending to kiss her.

"I know," she says, teasing lightly, reaching up to kiss him again. "I love you, too, Arthur."

They collapse into bed ten minutes later, exhausted from the events of the evening. Gwen clings to Arthur, snuggling close into his arms, seeming to need them around her tonight. He is more than happy to accommodate her, enjoying the warmth of her soft skin against him.

SATURDAY

"Is it that late already? I need to run. Get some rest, Tom. Don't be afraid to kick her out if you need a sleep," Arthur says as he hurriedly pats Tom's shoulder. He slows down to say goodbye to Gwen properly, kissing her sweetly and bending down for a hug, making sure to poke his head into her neck for one last whiff of her before he has to be away from her for the next 48 hours.

"Love you," he says into her neck.

"I love you. Be safe." Her familiar farewell.

Arthur jogs out the door. He's not really late, but to his mind he is, and Gwen laughs at him as he leaves.

"Is he going to be in trouble?" Tom asks.

"Good Lord, no. He's not as late as he made out; he just always likes to be early. If he's later than five minutes early he thinks he's late. Plus he's the chief, so no one will yell at him anyway."

"Really? I hadn't realized that." Tom sounds impressed, and Gwen notices.

"Oh, so he's just moved up a notch in your book, then?" she smirks at her father. "Drink," she commands, holding the straw of his cup of ice water to his lips.

He sighs, takes a drink, then says, "Yes, as a matter of fact, he has. I know the boy's father is ridiculously wealthy, but I still want my little girl to be kept in the manner to which she is accustomed, you know. And now that I know that he's not just a hose-jockey, I feel better about that."

"Dad! That's a very elitist attitude!" she chastises him. "Gracious, you'd think saving your life would be enough…" she shakes her head, clearly teasing him now.

He laughs, which devolves into coughing and Gwen stops chastising and resumes fussing over him.

"Guinevere, please, that's why there are nurses in this place," he protests. "I'm fine."

"Pops!" Morgana's voice exclaims from the doorway, and she comes rushing in, a vase of flowers clutched in her hands.

"Morgana, darling, good to see you," Tom says, smiling at her as she comes to hug him.

"They told me all about it. I'm so glad you're okay," she holds his hand in hers.

"Thank you for the flowers," he says. Gwen rearranges them a bit and sets them on the windowsill.

"So. Heart attack. What a way to break up a party," Morgana says. "I mean, if you didn't want to pay for your dinner, Pops, you could have just, I don't know, gone to the loo and scooted out the door…"

"Stop, Morgana!" he laughs, holding his side. "It does feel good to laugh, but it hurts some, too."

Gwen sits in the chair beside her father, also laughing. Morgana has always had a knack for lightening the mood, and it's what her father needs right now.

"Elliot been up yet, or has he not dragged that nicely-shaped backside of his out of bed yet? It _is_ only just gone noon, you know," Morgana says, looking at the clock.

"He called. He was going to bring lunch. Can I have him get you something?" Gwen asks.

"No, I had a bite with Wayne before he went to work," she says, smiling a little too widely.

"Yes, but did you get anything to eat?" Gwen asks.

"Gwen!" Morgana is shocked that she would tease her like this in front of her father, but Tom just laughs.

"So who is this Wayne? Not another musician, I hope," Tom asks.

"No, he's a firefighter." She rolls her eyes at him, but is secretly pleased at his concern for her. "He's on Arthur's crew. I met him at the engagement party."

"Oh, _him._ The one you were playing cat-and-mouse with all night," he nods, remembering.

Gwen looks at her father. "You noticed that?"

"Oh yes, Uther and I had a right laugh watching her string him along all night. Until they disappeared into the ladies' for about fifteen minutes…" he smirks.

"_Dad!_" now it is Gwen's turn to be shocked. Morgana actually has the decency to blush at this revelation. She didn't think anyone had seen them.

"Never mind, never mind," Tom laughs. "Is he good to you?" he turns a serious eye to Morgana. Morgana's parents both died when she was young. She was raised by a childless aunt, and Tom feels protective fatherly instincts over his daughter's best friend as well.

"Yes, he is. He's a bit of a scoundrel, but his heart is noble and good, I promise."

"Yes, daddy, he's a good man," Gwen confirms.

"Hmm. We shall see."

"Morgana. How dare you show your face around here?" Elliot scowls from the doorway.

Morgana turns, and schools her features into a glare. "Mr. Thomas. This is… quite an unexpected misfortune." She stands, facing him as if they are about to duel. "I hope you are armed. I'd hate to have to shoot an unarmed man."

Elliot's mouth twitches slightly. "So. You've come to kill my father, is that it? No? My sister? What possible reason can you have to darken our doorway?"

"I wish I had some popcorn," Gwen whispers to her father.

"Shh," he shushes her.

Morgana walks menacingly towards him.

"Only this, you, you…" unable to think of an appropriate insult, she breaks first, busting forth with laughter, running forward to hug Elliot and kiss his cheek.

"Elliot," Tom says, "nice of you to drop by."

"I told you I'd be back, didn't I?" he grins, walking forward with his arm around Morgana. He deposits a bag of takeaway fish and chips on a side table.

"So I get to watch you eat this while I get served some bland slop from the hospital cafeteria, yes?" Tom sighs.

"Yep," Elliot says, plopping down in a chair.

Gwen smacks him. "Be nice. Dad, we can eat elsewhere if it bothers you."

"No, Guinevere, it's fine, really." Just then an orderly comes in with Tom's lunch tray. "Oh, good," he says unenthusiastically.

"How's Tom?" Merlin asks Arthur while they eat their lunch.

"Seems to be doing well. He was in good spirits, anyway."

"How could he not be in good spirits with Gwen around? The woman is sunshine."

Arthur looks up. "That's quite a compliment, Merlin."

Merlin grins. "I guess I'm in a good mood."

"Ohhh…" Arthur says, the implications clear in his tone. Merlin bends over his lunch, his ears turning pink.

"Freya had the day off yesterday," he says quietly.

"So you spent the day cocooned in her loving embrace, then," Arthur says with a smirk.

Merlin clears his throat. "Something like that."

"Ah, so this morning as well?" Arthur teases Merlin, thoroughly enjoying watching his best friend trying to disappear under the his plate. "Sorry, mate, I haven't had the opportunity to tease you like this in a long time," Arthur laughs.

"So what happened? With Gwen's dad, I mean."

Arthur relates the story, kind of glossing over the whole part about how he potentially saved Tom's life with his quick thinking.

"Wait, wait, back up there," Merlin interrupts. "Exactly _what_ did the doctor say about the aspirin?"

Arthur furrows his brow. "Why?"

"Just tell me."

Arthur sighs. "He said something like my actions definitely prevented Tom's heart attack from becoming more severe, and that I may have even saved his life. I think that was it."

Merlin stares, fork in midair.

"What?"

Merlin puts his fork down, then picks up his and Arthur's plates and carries them to the kitchen.

"Good thing I was done," Arthur mutters. "Merlin, what on earth has gotten into you?"

"Come with me," Merlin commands. Something in his tone tells Arthur not to argue.

They walk back to the infirmary, which Merlin treats as his own little office and hideaway. He pulls out a key, unlocks a closet and withdraws a book. It is a copy of the same book Gaius gave to Gwen.

"You have one, too?" Arthur says quietly.

"Of course I do," he says matter-of-factly. He opens the book, scanning through pages until he finds what he is looking for.

"Close the door."

Arthur closes the door, puzzled.

"You can leave it open if you like, but I didn't think you'd want the guys to hear all about your freaky past-life story. You'd never hear the end of it," Merlin says, not looking up from the book.

"Good point."

"Aha. Here it is." He reads: "'Guinevere's father was put to death for the practice of sorcery, a crime of which he was innocent. Prince Arthur was in a position to put a stop to this, but was either unwilling or felt unable to sway his father's decision. As a result, he had a hand in the death of the father of the woman he would grow to love very deeply and eventually marry.' So you see, Arthur, you did an amazing thing last night. You _saved_ Tom's life. You made things right."

"Are you talking about karma?" Arthur looks sideways at his friend.

"Yes. I am. Don't laugh. By helping prevent Tom's death last night, you righted a major wrong done in the past. And that is _so cool._"

Arthur laughs, "Cool?"

"You got a better word for it, mate?"

He thinks. "No." He pauses. "Do you think Gwen knows? About past Arthur's involvement in her past dad's death?"

"It's possible. How much of this book has she read?" Merlin asks.

"Most of it, I'm sure," Arthur says. "She _was_ very grateful last night…" he trails off.

"Grateful?" Merlin raises his eyebrows, insinuating, thinking it his turn to start needling Arthur.

Arthur laughs. "Not grateful _that_ way. Time we got home it was very late and we were both exhausted."

"Find out if she knows. She should know. I imagine _then_ you might experience some gratitude, my friend."

_Merlin says you should read that Legend book. Page 212._ Arthur sends a text to Gwen late that afternoon. He doesn't know if she's home or at the hospital, so he's not sure when he'll here back from her.

Half an hour later, she responds. _Oh. My. God._

_M thinks I righted a wrong I committed in the past._

_I got that, yes. Wow._

Arthur finds Merlin outside, watching the lads kicking around a football in the crisp fall afternoon air. He sits beside him on top of the picnic table and hands him a bottle of water.

"She read it. And she got it," he says quietly to his friend. He shows him the message he sent and her reply.

Merlin smiles. "She's smart. I knew she'd make the connection."

"How is it that you never told me any of this stuff, by the way?"

"Self-preservation."

"Huh?"

"Uncle Henry tutored me in all this lore since before I could read. And I started reading at three and a half. There was no denying our connection to it all, we've been… self-aware, I guess, in each life we've lived."

"Self-aware?"

"We know who we were; who we have been."

"Go on," Arthur nods, waiting for him to get to his point. He knows Merlin will get there, it just a matter of when.

"But that makes for a strange child, right? Not only did I have the body of a refugee and ears like satellite dishes, I also had this… _past_ to deal with. For a long time you were my only friend. You were the first _real_ friend I had, in fact. I was afraid that if I told you what I knew and who I suspected you to be, you'd call me a nutter and walk."

Arthur considers this. "I'd like to say you're wrong, but you're probably not. You rarely are."

"I know."

"And that is _really_ annoying, you know that, mate?"

"Yes," he grins widely.

"And you still have ears like satellite dishes."

"Freya likes them," he remarks, taking a drink of his water.

"Well, she'd have to, wouldn't she?"

"Call Gwen," Merlin says, shoving Arthur in the shoulder.

"Yeah, probably should do," Arthur says, getting up. The ball rolls in his direction and he absentmindedly kicks it back, headed straight for Paul, who nods his thanks at him.

"You're home?" Arthur asks.

"Daddy kicked me out for the day. He was getting tired of me," she pouts.

"I'm sure that's not exactly it. He does need his rest, and he probably didn't want to sleep while you were there."

"You're right. I told him to go ahead, but he wouldn't."

"Of course he wouldn't. He loves you too much. He doesn't want to waste any of his time with you by sleeping in your presence."

"And how do you know this?" she asks.

"Because I'm the same way. The only reason I get any sleep when we're both home is because you are also sleeping."

"You are both completely ridiculous," she laughs, but she thinks, _That is unbelievably sweet._

"So. This whole business of past me being partially responsible for past Tom's death."

"I couldn't believe that. I can't believe I missed that part of the story, actually."

"Yeah, I thought you'd read everything."

"Not yet." She pauses. "But it sounds like King Arthur was kind of a prat for a while when he was still Prince Arthur."

"He just had some growing up to do," Arthur says, defending himself.

"Yes, and he needed Guinevere to straighten him out."

"Well, now, I wouldn't say that…"

"I would. Everything I've read, and I've been reading a lot again today, points to Arthur behaving like a spoiled prince until he started listening to Guinevere and Merlin. Just repeating what I've read, love."

"Fine, fine, past you and past Merlin are responsible for past me not growing up to be a jerk. But that doesn't change the fact that I did something really cool last night."

"Cool?"

"Merlin's words. He said that my karmic readjustment was 'so cool.'"

Gwen laughs at this.

"How's your dad?"

"He'll be going home probably Monday or Tuesday. Your dad dropped by, too."

"He did?"

"Yes. He's going to loan him Leah for a couple weeks once he's home. To help out around the house, cook for him – healthy meals – that kind of thing."

"I hope he cleared that with Leah first," Arthur ponders.

"He did. I asked him."

"You _did?_"

"Well of course I did. Why does that surprise you?"

"Oh, just because he would always bristle whenever I'd question him like that in the past. But for _you,_ oh no, he probably smiled indulgently down at you and said something like, 'Of course I did, dear,' didn't he?"

"Wow, it's like you were there," she teases him.

"Anyway, I'm glad your father is recovering well."

"I am, too. And Arthur?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you again for helping to save my father."

"Just doing my job, you know."

"Well, it means more to me than I can say."

"Anything for you, my love."

_He'd do the same for a complete stranger, too,_ she thinks, but she takes him at his word. "I love you," she says.

"I love you, too."

"Get back to work. Or whatever it is you're—"

Her words are cut off by the alarm.

"Love you," Arthur hurriedly says again before the line goes dead.

_Some fool burning yard waste 2 close 2 his house. Not even legal where he lives, so he's in big trouble. Everyone ok, even me._


	58. Chapter 58

ONE WEEK BEFORE THE WEDDING, FRIDAY

Guinevere had to close up the library, so she was home a little later than usual. She walks to the door of their flat and as soon as she enters, she smells something. Food. _Is Arthur cooking?_

She puts her things down and listens. _Holy hell, he is._ "Arthur?"

He jogs out into the living room to greet her. "Oh good, you're home. Perfect timing," he says, kissing her thoroughly before striding back to the kitchen.

She follows, wary. "What are you doing?"

"I am making dinner for us," he announces grandly. "Well, food. I don't know how much of a _dinner_ it will be," he concludes, grinning sheepishly.

Gwen sits at the table and watches, interested. "Oh?"

"Yes. I wanted to make dinner, and it came down to a choice between making things I know how to make, for an _interesting_ dinner, or trying to make something that I really don't know how to do, and risking having no dinner at all."

"So you decided that interesting is better than nonexistent."

"Yes," he nods, turning back to the stove.

"And what are we having, then?"

"One second…" he says, and she hears him turn the burner off and come to the table.

"We have…" he opens a covered dish, "scrambled eggs," he pauses and before Gwen can even open her mouth, he forges ahead, "made with very fresh eggs carefully purchased by me this afternoon." Gwen has been skittish about both eggs and mayonnaise since the food poisoning, and has become fanatical about their freshness.

When she smiles, he continues. "Bacon," he announces, revealing a plate of mildly charred bacon. He frowns and says, "Sorry."

"No, I like it… crispy. Honest," Gwen says, trying not to laugh. _He's trying so hard and it is so cute._

"Toasted cheese sandwiches," he places one on her plate, fresh from the pan. It is not burned, and actually looks appetizing.

"Very nice," Gwen praises his efforts. _I won't mention the lack of fruits or vegetables at this point,_ she thinks.

But then he surprises her, turning to the refrigerator. "And, lest you think I've forgotten, fruit compote, which I freely admit buying this afternoon when I went for the eggs." He brings the bowl to the table. "I figured fruit would go better with these particular items, and I didn't want to attempt to cut these things up myself. So call it brunch for dinner, I guess."

Gwen grins at him, amused and touched by his efforts. He brings them drinks, then with an, "Oh, almost forgot," he lights some candles on the table and dims the lights.

"Ooo, _candlelit_ brunch for dinner," Gwen coos at him.

He leans down and kisses her once more before sitting beside her.

Gwen fills her plate, then looks at it for a moment, hesitating. She stands and goes to the refrigerator and returns with a bottle of ketchup.

Arthur stares at her. "Ketchup?" _What on earth could she want ketchup for?_

She smiles, a little embarrassed. "I like ketchup on scrambled eggs."

Arthur makes a face.

"You can blame the Yank that works for me for this. She was the one that introduced me to it."

"Autumn?"

"Yes. We met for breakfast once, around two years ago, and she had scrambled eggs with her meal. When she asked for some ketchup, the waitress looked at her like she was a crazy American who had just asked for a pair of the Queen's knickers."

Arthur laughs at this, saying, "Go on."

"I mentioned that I actually wasn't really fond of scrambled eggs, and she had me try them with the ketchup. Voila: I'm a heretic."

He laughs again as she pours a dollop of the thick red sauce on her plate, stabs a chunk of egg with her fork and delicately dips it in the ketchup before bringing it to her lips.

"Okay, I gotta try it now," he says, poking a chunk of egg from his own plate and dipping it in her ketchup. He studies it skeptically for a moment before shoveling it in. "Blech. No," he says, reaching for his glass.

Gwen laughs, "Each to his own."

They eat quietly for a minute, then Arthur speaks.

"Guinevere."

"Hmm?"

"I have a confession to make."

"Oh?"

"There is an ulterior motive behind this romantic candlelit feast."

She puts her fork down. "Okay."

"I need your ring back. Temporarily."

"You do? Why? When will I get it back?"

"I do, and I'm not telling why. You'll get it back at the wedding. Sorry, love, but it is necessary."

Gwen looks down at the ring. Her ring that she loves so much. _It's only a week. And I'll get it back. _She sighs and takes it off her finger, handing it to him.

"Oh – I don't need it _right_ now. Tomorrow morning."

"Okay. Remind me. I'm working tomorrow, you know." She frowns. But they have both taken vacation for the entire week before the wedding, so the least she could do was take Saturday, even if Arthur is off.

"I know. I'm bringing you lunch, remember?" he smiles, reaching out to take her hand. "I'll pick something up, I promise not to cook again."

She laughs, and leans over to kiss him. "You did a fine job tonight. This is the best meal of eggs, bacon, toasted cheese and fruit I've ever had."

He smiles broadly at first, then stops. "Wait…" he starts to protest, but she kisses him again, stopping his words.

Leaning back in her chair, she reaches down and picks up a strawberry, then pops it into his mouth, feeding him.

"Thank you," he says, mouth full of strawberry.

Arthur is putting the dishes away after dinner. He turns and sees Gwen wiping down the table, her back to him, the chair he had been sitting in still off to one side where he left it.

She leans forward over the table, reaching far. He studies her nicely-rounded backside inside the figure-hugging grey skirt that reaches just to her knees, with a slight flare in the back.

Almost unconsciously he finds himself walking towards her, reaching his arms around her from behind, pressing his body to hers.

"Arthur…" Gwen says, smiling and straightening up as his hands slide up over the silk of her blouse to caress her breasts. Her hair is in a single braid, and he noses it out of the way to kiss her neck.

She leans her head back, eyes drifting closed as he drags his tongue lightly along the skin of her neck, up to her ear, nipping the earlobe lightly. He presses against her again, allowing her to feel his hardness against her backside.

His hands are now opening the buttons on her blouse, pulling it untucked, sliding inside to touch her skin. He catches her lips with his, reaching his head forward while she arches hers back, tongues meeting and sliding against each other eagerly.

One of his hands leaves her chest and moves down over her rear, down, reaching for the hem of her skirt. She drops the cloth that was still clutched in her hands and it lands on the floor. He breaks the kiss to slip his hands up under her skirt, raising it up so he can remove her panties.

_What is he – oh, I think I know,_ Gwen thinks when she tries to turn around to face him and he stops her from doing so. _And he calls_ me _naughty?_

He opens his trousers and yanks them and his underwear down, and Gwen reaches back to touch him while he returns his hands to her, reaching up under her blouse to unfasten her bra so he can more easily touch her breasts. His lips return to her neck, biting gently, kissing her tender skin there with wet, open-mouthed kisses, and Gwen moans just slightly.

Arthur slips a hand beneath her skirt once again, reaching up to touch the wetness he has created there, teasing her with his fingers until she is gasping and pushing back against him.

His lips leave her neck and the hand at her breast moves around to her back, where he gently slides it upward, guiding her torso forward over the table, bending her over. Gwen's hand releases him and rests on the table as she feels him slide into her from behind with a groan.

"Guinevere," he whispers reverently, leaning forward over her to kiss her neck, her cheek, before he starts moving behind her. Gwen rests on her elbows on the hard surface of the table, eyes closed, not even noticing the hard wooden surface beneath her.

As he thrusts, crouching slightly, he again leans forward slightly and his hand finds her in the front, pleasuring her with the fingers of one hand while the other grasps at a breast, squeezing carefully, thumb rubbing against her hardened nipple.

"Oh… oh…" Gwen is starting to cry out with desire, which always seems to drive Arthur beyond all thought. His thrusts increase, as does the motion of his fingers, and seconds later she is gasping, her hands grabbing the edges of the table and he feels the muscles contract around him as she climaxes beneath him on the dinner table.

Arthur's hands move to her hips, holding her, lifting her off her feet so he can stand up straighter.

"Whoa!" Gwen exclaims as her feet leave the floor, and she giggles. Arthur smiles in response before he feels his own wave it, and he pushes in as far as he can with a groan, on tiptoe, before letting her feet touch the floor again and leaning over her again to kiss her wherever he can reach.

He withdraws from her, and finally turns her around to face him so he can kiss her properly.

"I'm going to have to clean the table again," Gwen says against his lips, and he laughs.

"I'll never look at this table the same way again, you know," he says.

Gwen just smiles slyly at him, attempting to right her clothes, only to realize it is futile. She kisses him again and leaves him, bending to pick up her knickers before walking back to change clothes.

_Wait a minute,_ Arthur thinks, following her back.

"You did that on purpose!" he calls, catching her up.

"Did what?" she says innocently, changing her clothes.

"Waving your little backside at me," he swats it playfully, "while pretending to wipe the table."

She turns and looks at him. "First, I was not _pretending_ to wipe the table. I actually was. Second, I was not _waving_ my backside at you. I merely pointed it in your direction." She bites back a smile.

"Aha! So you admit it!"

"The only thing to which I will admit is surprise that you bent me over the table. I fully expected you to pounce, but not in _that_ manner," she says, finally grinning at him.

"Um, yes, well. That… was an impulse," he smirks.

She kisses him, saying, "Well, I have lauded you on your creativity in the past…"

SATURDAY

"See, I told you I wouldn't cook again," Arthur announces, setting a bag containing boxes of Chinese food down on the counter of the lobby.

"Did you bring egg rolls?"

"Of course. Oh, here," he hands her a book.

"Ah, _Frankenstein_." She sets it on a pile of other returns, picks up the bag and leads him back to her office. "How did you like it?"

"It wasn't what I expected. I was thinking it was a thriller."

She smiles. "Go on."

"And it was… sad."

"Yes. It is." She sits, and he opens the bag brings out containers.

"Oh, the bakery called this morning," Gwen says between bites of sesame chicken.

"They did?" he looks at her suspiciously.

"Yes, they need a final decision on the design."

_I don't think I like where this is going._ "And?"

"Would you stop on your way home?"

"_Me?_"

"Arthur, it's not difficult. Just go, pick the one you like, sign the form and go home. Piece of cake."

"Oh, ha ha."

"I trust you."

"I don't. What if I pick the wrong one?"

"You won't."

"How many options am I going to have to pick from?"

"Two. It's not exactly rocket science."

"How 'bout I take pictures of the choices and message them to you and then you can tell me which one to pick?"

"Arthur, it's not like I'm asking you to pick out my dress."

Arthur sighs. "You're sure?"

"Yes."

"Okay. But if you don't like them, remember your words."

She laughs, and resumes eating.

"I need a new book," Arthur says after they finish.

She stands, and takes his hand, pulling him back out to the lobby.

"I have the perfect follow-up to _Frankenstein_ for you."

"Do you?"

"It just came back in, and if you take it, I won't have to re-shelve it."

She picks through a line of books on a cart until she finds what she's looking for. "Aha."

Arthur takes the book. "_The Stranger?_ This is the perfect follow-up?"

"Yes. Just read it, you'll underst—"

"Excuse me, miss?" a woman has come to the counter needed Gwen's assistance, so she leaves Arthur to help her.

"Yes, how may I help you?" Gwen gives Arthur a gentle shove towards the computers behind the desk. He strolls over, pulls his library card from his wallet, and checks out his own book.

He opens the book, leaning against the counter casually, reading while he waits for Gwen.

"Arthur, go to the bakery," she comes back to him, leaning against him for a goodbye kiss. "I'll see you at home."

THURSDAY, TWO DAYS BEFORE THE WEDDING

"I don't like this. It's not… manly," Elliot protests from the back seat of Merlin's car.

"Morgana promised we'd be the only ones there," Arthur says.

"Besides, you don't have a choice. Unless you want to argue with Morgana and Gwen," Merlin chimes in.

Elliot remains silent, sulking in the back.

"Thought not," Merlin says.

"Look, mate, I'm not entirely thrilled about it either, but if Guinevere wants us looking our best for the wedding, then that's what we'll do."

"You are so whipped, man," Elliot says.

"Yes. And I'm happier than I've ever been, so shut it."

Arthur parks the car and the three of them walk into Morgana's salon, where Morgana and two other stylists greet them.

"Dibs on Gwen's brother," Elizabeth, a tall redhead and Morgana's roommate since Gwen moved out, mutters to them.

"Which one is brother?" Irene, a short blonde with soft features, asks.

"The bald one."

"Hello, darlings," Morgana walks to them, and locks the door behind them.

"See?" Merlin says to Elliot, pointing at the locked door.

Morgana kisses each of them hello in turn, then she is down to business. "Okay. Arthur, you're with me, of course," she bats her eyelashes coquettishly at him. "Elliot, Elizabeth has requested the honor, and Merlin, this is Irene," she indicates the blonde, pronouncing her name _Ee-RAY-nah._

Elizabeth strides up to Elliot. He is not overly tall, and Elizabeth is nearly as tall as he is. She reaches up and places her hand on top of his head, rubbing it a little. "Yes, we need a touch-up, don't we?" He stares at her, her boldness intriguing him.

"Come on, honey," she says, and leads him to her chair using the hand still on the top of his head.

They sit beside Merlin and Irene, and Arthur and Morgana are on the other end. The three men sit there, looking at themselves and each other in the mirrors, each feeling slightly silly.

"Okay, boys, loosen up," Morgana laughs. "We're not going to make you up or put pink polish on your toes."

"Unless you're into that kind of thing," Elizabeth chimes in, wrapping a hot towel around Elliot's head.

Irene is studying Merlin's dark hair, but she keeps sneaking glances at Elliot. Finally, she turns to him and says, "I know you. You are rugby player, no?" She has a distinct Eastern European accent.

"Yes," he says, looking up at her from under the towel.

"You look like a sultan," Arthur says, laughing.

"Thank you, Sahib," Elliot says, then turns his attention back to Irene. "You like rugby?"

"Very much. I am liking the men in their short pants. And the running and… tackling is very exciting to be watching. And the New Zealand team with the doing of the Haka. Very, um, hot?"

Elizabeth glares at her over the top of Elliot's head. Irene rolls her eyes back at her.

Elliot laughs. "Well, not the word _I_ would choose for it, but it is interesting to watch, yes."

Irene opens a drawer and pulls out a cap with the name of Elliot's team on it. "Please, would you sign for brother?"

"Of course," Elliot says, taking it. Elizabeth, now understanding Irene's interest, hands him a marker. "What is his name?"

"Piotr," she says, and spells it for him. "I bought today and will be posting him for his birthday."

He writes a message on it and hands it back to her.

She looks at it, reading. "'Happy birthday, Piotr. Be strong, be good. Best wishes, Elliot Thomas.' Thank you so much! He will love!" She bends down and kisses him on both cheeks before returning the hat to the drawer.

"Sorry, Merlin. I am all yours now," she says, returning to him.

"Quite all right. Where are you from?" he asks.

"Poland. Just outside Warsaw," she says.

"Warszawa to piękne miasto," Merlin says to her. _Warsaw is a beautiful city._

"Mówisz Polskiej?" Irene answers, surprised. _You speak Polish?_

"Mało." _A little._

"Merlin?" Arthur asks.

"Yeah?"

"Stop showing off. Besides, how do we know you're not talking about us?"

Merlin grins, and resumes conversing with Irene in Polish.

Once the men have all been neatly trimmed (or in Elliot's case, freshly shaved), they are escorted to seats at small tables bearing towels, lotions, and assorted stainless steel implements of supposed torture.

Arthur looks at Morgana quizzically.

"Manicures," she tells him.

"No," Elliot protests. "Just, no."

Morgana marches over to him, grabs him by the elbow and pulls him to a chair. "Sit," she commands, pushing him into the seat. Then she leans over him and says, "Your sister is getting married in two days. She is the bride and therefore she shall get what she wants. And what she wants is for you to look gorgeous. You're also getting this very expensive attention for _free._ So quit your bitching and be a good boy or we will tie you down and give you a bikini wax. _Brazilian._"

Elliot turns in his chair and faces the table, placing his hands obediently on the towel. Morgana kisses his cheek and flounces back over to Arthur. He and Merlin are both splitting with laughter.

"You have very nice hands, Arthur," Morgana says as she works on him.

"Guinevere said the same thing," he comments.

"Did she?"

"Yes. She said that I have remarkably beautiful hands for a man, especially given my line of work."

"Well, she's right." She turns the hand she has between hers around, inspecting it. "Nicely shaped, no scars, and your fingernails were clean even before we started." She looks up at Arthur. "She _hates_ dirty fingernails."

Arthur chuckles. "That doesn't surprise me."

Suddenly there is a pounding at the front window. They all turn to look, and are treated to the sight of Wayne's backside pressed to the glass. The men and Elizabeth laugh, Irene gasps, and Morgana merely sighs and rolls her eyes before standing up to unlock the door.

Wayne, Leon, and Paul come tumbling noisily in, wielding bottles of champagne. Wayne has already popped one open and has been drinking straight from the bottle.

"Arthur!" he shouts in a celebratory fashion. "Getting all pretty for the big day?"

"Wayne, nice to see you, too," he laughs. Wayne grabs Morgana as she passes and pulls her to him for a passionate kiss.

"Hello," she says when they come up for air.

"My lady," he releases her and bows.

"We're almost done, and then you hooligans can go about your business," she tells him.

"What business?" Arthur asks.

"Your bachelor party, of course!" Wayne announces, hoisting his bottle in a toast before taking a long pull from it.

Arthur turns to see Merlin and Elliot both grinning at him. "You wankers. You knew."

"Hell, we _planned_ it," Merlin laughs. "Why do you think I insisted on driving?"


	59. Chapter 59

"Don't touch anything," Morgana says, noticing Paul and Wayne starting to investigate their surroundings. Leon has made himself comfortable in one of the chairs, and is spinning lazily in circles.

Wayne plops down at the manicure table next to Morgana's, a bottle of navy blue polish in his hand. He sets his bottle on the table and starts casually painting his nails. Morgana glances at him, exhales with a chuckle, and turns her attention back to Arthur.

Paul is still wandering, poking his nose into cabinets and drawers.

"Paul, darling, what are you looking for?" Morgana asks, not looking up.

"Cups."

"I get them," Irene says. "Soak," she tells Merlin before standing. He puts his fingers in a bowl of warm water.

She returns with a stack of pink plastic cups and hands them to Paul. He distributes them, and pops the cork on another bottle of champagne as effortlessly as if he were popping the head off a dandelion.

Irene is impressed. "Strong man," she says to Merlin.

"I know, he's huge," Merlin laughs.

"Quiet," she observes.

"That he is. He gets a little more chatty once he's had a few."

"Chatty?"

"He talks more when he's drunk."

"Okay."

Paul pours champagne, ladies first. He ignores Wayne as he has his own bottle. "For the groom," he says, filling Arthur's cup full. "And a drop for driver number one." He pours a little in Merlin's cup, then fills Elliot's and his own full before crossing to Leon and giving him a small amount as well.

"Leon, you got roped into driving?" Arthur asks him.

"I'm on child duty tomorrow, since I'm off and Thea has plans. So I volunteered. You do _not_ want to deal with a six-year-old boy if you have a hangover," he laughs.

"How is Alec?"

"Good. He's learning cricket."

"Really? At six?"

"It was either that or American Football," Leon rolls his eyes.

"Unusual range of interests."

"Boring," Wayne chimes from his table, inspecting his nails. "Are you taking the Crumpet out for a hen party, Morgs?"

"Of sorts," Morgana says, filing Arthur's nails. "Gwen doesn't drink, you know, so a night out on a boozer isn't really her style. So we're having a spa day tomorrow, followed by lunch."

Wayne yawns dramatically and Morgana stabs his arm lightly with her file. "Ow!"

"Who all is going?" Arthur asks. He knew about it, but hadn't heard the guest list.

"Well, Gwen and me, obviously," Morgana says, "And Freya," she glances at Merlin. "Also Autumn and Thea."

"Who's Autumn?" Wayne asks, suddenly interested again.

"A friend of Gwen's from the library."

He furrows his brow. "I don't remember any Autumn. Was she at the engagement party?"

"No, she was in America visiting her family, so she didn't make it."

"She's American?"

"_Obviously,_" she glances sideways at him. "And don't go getting any ideas. She's a nice girl."

"I can vouch for that," Elliot mutters from the other end of the row.

"What was that?" Arthur asks, interested.

"I took her out once. She didn't like me. She said I was a 'player,' and that she didn't want to deal with me or my baggage."

"What the hell is a player?" Merlin asks.

"Is someone who plays with woman like toy," Irene casually explains. They all stare at her.

"Oh. Well that certainly clears it up," Wayne says, laughing.

"So are you?" Elizabeth asks, angling her head at Elliot.

"What?"

"A player?"

He clears his throat and takes a drink of champagne to buy some time, clearly interested in Elizabeth and not wanting to say the wrong thing.

"I guess I have been in the past."

"Good answer," Wayne laughs. "Are you a rugger or a politician?"

"Did you call my sister a crumpet before?" Elliot asks Wayne as they walk into Excalibur.

"Yeah, I shortened it. It was originally 'Little Brown Crumpet.'"

Elliot looks like he is about to get offended, so Arthur intercepts him. "He means it affectionately, Elliot, settle down."

"And your dear sister isn't as innocent as you think, mate," Wayne grins. Now it is Arthur's turn to take offense.

"Excuse me?" he turns on Wayne

"Whoa, whoa, back up there, Chief. I was simply referring to that little _bite mark_ I spotted on your shoulder last month," he says, poking him in the shoulder.

"Ah, oh, um. That." Arthur's scowl turns into an embarrassed grin as they find a table.

"Bite mark?" Elliot says, incredulous. "I don't think I want to hear about this." He walks to the bar to order drinks for the table.

The six men sit around a large round table as Elliot returns with four pints clutched in his hands.

"Brilliant, the bride's brother got the first round!" Wayne declares, taking his glass.

He reaches into his pockets and produces bottled waters for Leon and Merlin. "I didn't forget you blokes," he says as he hands them their bottles.

Three young ladies approach the table. They are probably just twenty-one, and they are slightly tipsy already.

"Would any of you like to dance?" one asks, clearly looking at Arthur, who is oblivious, talking in Merlin's ear.

Wayne elects himself spokesman for the table. He stands and drapes his arm around her shoulders. "Well, love, let's see. I'll tell you who's available for female attention and then you can make your choice. How'll that do?" He points to each man in turn, starting with Merlin. "Taken." Leon: "Married." Paul: "Available," then he whispers loudly, "but he's shy," and winks. Elliot: "Available, and apparently a player, according to some American bird he took out once." He then points at himself, and hesitates. The guys are watching now, curious as to what he'll say, as none of them are sure what his relationship with Morgana is.

He sighs. "Taken, but always willing to dance." Several sets of eyebrows rise at the table. "And _he_," Wayne points dramatically to Arthur, "is getting _married_ Saturday. So unless we get him _thoroughly_ pissed, I don't think he'll be dancing."

The second girl gasps. "Is this your bachelor party?" she asks Arthur. He nods, smiling.

"Oh my God, your fiancée is _so_ lucky," she gushes, and wobbles a bit. "Did you hire a stripper for him?" she asks Wayne.

"Um, don't think so…" he says, giving the girl a puzzled look.

"Would you like one? Ow!" she says the first girl pinches her.

"Sorry, she's a lightweight," she says, steadying her friend before approaching Elliot, holding her hand out to him. He grins and stands, then pulls Paul and Wayne with him, and the six of them head to the dance floor.

The lads head to another club, but on the way they decide that they want some food. The first place they see is a Burger King restaurant, so they pull in and head inside for burgers.

They're not too far gone yet, so they only cause a minor ruckus. Mostly they are laughing a lot and getting a lot of strange and annoyed looks. They eat quickly and messily in the way that men do when not supervised by their women, and head out the door.

On the way out, Wayne grabs a paper crown intended for children and places it on Arthur's head. Arthur adjusts it, placing it at a rakish angle, and walks proudly to Merlin's car, staggering just slightly.

They find another table at the second club. Wayne knows the bartender at this place so they are drinking almost for free. Arthur doesn't want to get too blasted, but he is definitely feeling the effects of the alcohol.

"You guys know I love you, right?" Arthur announces to the table, his words slightly slurred. "'Cause I do. Each of you. _You,_" he points to Leon, "I love. 'Cause you have the life, don't you? Beautiful wife, beautiful son, a prrrromotion to chief. You've got everything a man could… want? Want, yes." He nods, and Leon chuckles, raising his water bottle in a toast to Arthur.

"You'll have it, too, mate, trust me," Leon says. Arthur grins.

"And Elliot. I don't know you that good yet, but I still love you. You're going to be my brother." He laughs suddenly. "My brother the brother," he says, and Elliot laughs at this as well. "Your sister," he continues, "Is the _best person_ in the _whole world._"

Elliot looks at Arthur. "She is. She's bossy and picky and too smart and she's _always right,_ but she is really the… coolest girl ever. Ssshe deserves someone… brilliant… like you. I love you, too, Art. I always wanted a brrrotherrr." Elliot, though a professional drinker, is also feeling his indulgence.

"Paul, you big giant… person," Arthur continues. "You lovable brick wall, you. Bloody hell, you're huge, do you know that? And I _love_ that about you, mate. I love that you know how to… not… talk. I love that you secretly love puppies and musical theatre. Oh, sorry…"

Paul laughs, a hearty, drunken laugh, "I think they all know anyway."

"I didn't…" Elliot speaks up.

"You do now, mate," Paul says, raising his glass and clinking it with Elliot's, and they both drink.

"And _you,_" Arthur continues, turning on Wayne. "You are a… pervert. But I still love you. You're… honest. Too much so, sometimesss… you say things that most people only… think. And you _get away_ with it, mate, which is brilliant." He starts laughing now, apparently remembering something amusing Wayne must have done in the past.

"You are a sloppy, affectionate… cabbage head… who can't hold his drink, Arthur, but I love you, too, mate," Wayne says. He leans over and plants a big kiss on Arthur's cheek and they both collapse into each other, laughing like idiots.

"Wait, wait! I haven't done Merlin yet!" Arthur straightens up, trying to regain some sort of composure. "I wasss…sssaving him for last…" He takes another swig of his drink.

"Mmmmerlin…" Arthur turns to his best friend, swinging his arm around his shoulders and leaning his head on him.

"Arthur," Merlin replies nonchalantly.

"I love you."

"Yes, I know. I love you, too, mate." He reaches up and pats Arthur's cheek.

"No, _really._ You are such a cool guy. And, like, no one knows it. Which makes you _cooler._ You know _evvvverything._ And you… put up with me. So I love you."

"Well, in a day and a half you'll be Gwen's full-time problem," Merlin says, and they all laugh.

"Guinevere…" Arthur says, eyes turning dreamy. "I love her, too." He rests his forearms on the table and sets his chin down on the backs of his folded hands. "She's _amazing._"

Merlin keeps a careful eye on his friend, ready to step in and intercept him should he start to share a little too much about his relationship with Gwen. Her brother is present, after all.

"And have you blokes seen how cute she is? Really, she's adorable, isn't she? She even has cute… toes…" he trails off, eyes closing for a moment.

Leon looks at his watch. Shortly after one a.m. "I think he's done, lads."

Merlin agrees. "Yes, let's take him home."

Twenty minutes later, Merlin, Leon and Wayne escort Arthur into his flat. Paul and Elliot's places were on the way, so they were taken home already.

"Shh!" Merlin says as Wayne trips over a pair of Arthur's shoes on the mat next to the door. "We don't want to wake Gwen."

"Isn't that kind of unavoid… unav… won't that be hard?" Wayne asks. "We gotta get his drunk ass into bed."

"I think he'll be using the couch tonight," Leon says, pointing with his free hand at a pillow and some blankets piled neatly on a sofa cushion. "Looks like she left us a hint."

"Let's put him down," Merlin says. Merlin and Leon are supporting Arthur on either side. He looks a bit like a marionette, suspended between the two taller men.

They drop him on the couch, and Leon quickly grabs the pillow and tucks it under Arthur's head as he starts leaning over to lie down. Merlin pulls his shoes off, and when he looks up he sees a very amused-looking Gwen standing just at the edge of the living room, where the hallway begins. He smiles at her and she puts her finger to her lips, indicating that she doesn't want to be discovered at this time.

"All right Arthur, sleepy time," Merlin says, pulling the blanket over Arthur.

"Guinevere," Arthur mutters, reaching his hand out, groping for her.

"She's sleeping in the bedroom, Arthur," Merlin lies.

Arthur sits up and blearily demands, "Well, take me back there! I want to be with her!"

"You're in no state, Arthur. Lie back down, mate, you'll see her in the morning," Merlin presses Arthur back down, gently but very firmly.

"I just want to hold her," Arthur whines, eyes closing again. "To… smell her… hair…" he drifts off.

Gwen smiles. _Poor drunk lovesick fool,_ she thinks, chuckling to herself, touched that she is still first in his thoughts, even in this semi-conscious and inebriated state. _He's going to be hurting tomorrow,_ she thinks.

Merlin waves at her. "He's out cold now."

"So I see," Gwen says, stepping into the room. "Hello, Leon, thanks for helping take care of him."

"Any time, Gwen," he says, bending down as she leans up to kiss his cheek.

"What about me?" Wayne asks. "Don't I get any thanks?"

"Thank you, Wayne, for getting my fiancé so thoroughly drunk," she says, but she knows better than to favor him with a kiss on the cheek.

"Anytime, Crumpet." He bows to her, but stumbles when he bends forward. Leon catches him. "I like your pajamas," Wayne recovers enough to leer suggestively at her.

"Um, thanks," Gwen says. It's now to chilly at night for her to sleep in one of Arthur's shirts. She is wearing soft cotton pants covered with small versions of her brother's rugby logo on them and a black t-shirt. _Nothing suggestive about these, yet he compliments me like I'm wearing a negligee._ She looks at Merlin, and he rolls his eyes.

"What's that about?" she points to the Burger King crown, discarded on the table.

"Arthur was the King of Burgers tonight," Wayne declares. Gwen looks sideways at Merlin. He shakes his head and casts his eyes to the ceiling.

"Ah. Glad I asked." She turns to Merlin. "You could have brought him back, you know."

"I think it's safer for him to be out here. At least for a while. I don't think he's going to vomit or anything, but he tends to get… talkative. And emotional. So it was better if he thinks you're already asleep because otherwise he'd be up telling you how much he loves you for the next two hours."

Gwen laughs. "Is that so?"

"He told all of us," Leon says. "We each got to hear why he loved us. It was very touching." He pretends to wipe a tear from his eye.

She laughs again, and says, "Go home, lads. I'll be fine. If he finds his way back to the bed, I'll deal with him. Don't forget: I used to live with Morgana."

"Oh, that's right. She'll be fine, guys," Merlin laughs quietly. "See you tomorrow, Gwen."

She leans up and kisses his cheek. "Go home and get some sleep. And your hair looks good, Merlin."

"Hey, thanks. Oh, and check it out," he holds his hands out for her inspection. "Manicures, too."

Gwen grins and looks. "_Very_ nice. Irene did a good job." She sees Merlin's look, and continues. "Well, obviously Morgana called me after you left."

"'Bye, Gwen," he says, and the three men leave. Gwen locks the door behind them. Then she turns and looks at Arthur and sighs.

"Silly," she mutters. She walks past, bends to kiss Arthur on the forehead, and goes back to bed.

Two hours later, she is awakened by Arthur's weight on the mattress. He turns on his side and pulls her toward him, holding her.

"I woke up and found myself on the couch, alone," he whispers into her hair, as her back is to him.

"That's where they put you," she mutters back, eyes closed. _Is he still dressed? _She reaches back to touch him. _Ah. Underwear._ She hated the thought of him sleeping in his clothes, as that is neither comfortable nor restful.

"I had to pee, so I got up and decided to join you back here. After I peed." He nuzzles her neck, squeezing her tight.

"Go back to sleep, love." _He's not sober yet._

"Okay."


	60. Chapter 60

FRIDAY

Gwen wakes at about seven-thirty. Morgana is picking her up in just over an hour to get to the spa by nine. She looks over at Arthur. He is sprawled on his stomach, one arm thrown across her middle. His face is half-buried in the pillow and his mouth is open and drooling.

_Sexy,_ Gwen thinks sarcastically and laughs to herself. Worming her way out from under his arm, she gets up and starts getting herself ready.

When she returns from the shower, Arthur hasn't moved. Gwen doesn't even bother trying to be quiet. She knows nothing will stir him in this state. She pulls on some yoga pants and a grey v-neck t-shirt, steals Arthur's navy blue hoodie, and goes out in search of some breakfast.

Morgana turns up shortly after eight-thirty, knocking softly. Gwen rises from her place on the sofa and lets her in.

"How is he?" Morgana asks immediately.

"Still sleeping. Last I saw he was on his face, drooling like an infant."

Morgana laughs. "Can I peek?" she asks with a twinkle in her eye.

"Sure," Gwen shrugs.

They walk back to the bedroom and peek into the door. "That is truly pathetic," Morgana laughs.

"Yes, I'm the luckiest girl in the world," Gwen says. Her voice is sarcastic, but her eyes reflect the truth in her words as she looks at him.

Suddenly he flips over, and the girls jump, startled, and step back out of sight again. Presently they hear snoring, and Gwen leans back in and sees Arthur now on his back, snoring loudly. She snorts a small laugh, and they walk back out.

"One second," she says and ducks into the bathroom where she grabs some Tylenol and fills a cup with water. She brings these back to the bedroom, sets them on the bedside table for him, and leans down to kiss his forehead.

"Have fun," he mutters, turning on his side.

Guinevere rejoins Morgana in the living room, where she picks up her tea and finishes it before taking it to the kitchen. She flips off the television and says, "Let's go."

Arthur stirs, opening one crusty, bleary eye. Nine thirty. _Blast, I missed her._ He sees the water and Tylenol sitting there, and he smiles. He sits up – _whoa_ – and takes the pills, downing the entire glass of water.

_Have to pee._

He pulls himself out of the bed and shuffles to the bathroom, bringing the cup with him to return it where it belongs.

He flops back into bed and hugs her pillow to him. _I hate it when I miss her,_ he thinks, knowing he won't see her until the afternoon. His head throbs.

_Going to kill Wayne._

Just then his phone springs to life, the loud, somewhat crass sounds of Merlin's ringtone slicing into his head like a circular saw.

"Merlin! Don't call so loud!" he grumbles into the phone.

"Sorry mate, _you_ picked the ringtone, not me," Merlin laughs. "How are we this morning?"

"The inside of my mouth feels like the outside of a sheep."

"_What?_"

"You know: woolly, thick, and a little oily."

Merlin laughs at this, thoroughly enjoying Arthur's misery. "Don't forget smelly," he adds.

"Yeah, probably that, too," Arthur admits, laughing now, too.

"Make sure you drink a lot today. Water, that is. It'll help," he recommends.

"I know, Merlin, you tell me this every time."

"Well, it's been a while since you've tied one on like this, so I was just making sure."

"Yeah," he admits, acknowledging the fact that he's not been much for the club scene since he met Gwen.

"You're not out of bed yet," Merlin says knowingly.

"I have _been_ out of bed, but I came back."

"Doesn't count. Get up and start moving around. You'll feel better."

"I didn't get to see Gwen before she left. I hate that."

"You are pathetic."

"You're only saying that because you got to see Freya this morning."

"Perhaps."

"Perhaps nothing, mate. I can _hear_ you grinning."

"Arthur, you are a besotted fool."

"So are you. I'm hanging up now."

"See you later."

Arthur sends Gwen a text. _Missed you this morning._

He sighs, and gets up. _Hot shower._ He goes back to the bathroom and turns the taps on as hot as he can handle and stands under the spray, letting the water beat down on him, trying to pound and wash the excesses of the previous night away. _Feels good._

After a shower and a thorough teeth-brushing to eliminate that sheepy feeling, he decides that he should eat something. Normally he'd help himself to eggs or cereal or even some oatmeal or porridge and a nice glass of cold milk. This morning dairy has no appeal, the thought of eggs makes his stomach flip unhappily, and oatmeal and porridge look too much like sick for him to even consider.

_Toast and tea,_ he decides, laughing as he realizes that this is what Gwen usually has for breakfast.

His phone beeps. _You did talk to me when I left._ Text from Gwen.

_I did?_

_ You told me to have fun._

_ What RU doing now?_

_ Waiting for my next treatment_

_ Which is?_

_ Something called a Cocooning Body Wrap_

_ Huh?_

_ Not sure. I guess I'll be a butterfly when done. :)_

_ You already are one_

_ TY. Gotta go. Love you._

Arthur lazes around the apartment, bored, watching the minutes tick slowly by. He plays some Wii. He catches up on the sports highlights. He washes the dishes.

His phone rings, and Lisa from the jeweler's tells him that Gwen's ring is ready. _Hooray, something to do,_ he thinks, and tells her he'll be there soon.

The ring has turned out beautifully. Knowing how much she loved the ring, he wanted her to be able to continue to wear it after they were married, which is something his mother did not do. She changed to a simple band after they got married, and only wore the diamond ring on special occasions. Arthur never understood that. So he had a wedding band designed to go with the ring, attached to it, combining the old with the new.

As he drives back home, his curiosity starts to take over. _Luncheon. I wonder where they are lunching. Some swank tea room? A five-star restaurant? A charming café?_

Once home, he stashes her ring inside a sock in a drawer, and dials Wayne.

"What?" he answers.

"Nice to hear your voice, too, mate."

"Hey, Arthur. What's going on?"

"Wondering something."

"Yes?"

"Do you know where Morgana has lunch arranged for the hens?"

"Um, yeah, think so."

Arthur hears him rummaging around in some papers.

"Ah. Franco's."

"They're going for pizza?"

"Looks as though. You're surprised?"

"Well, yeah. I figured they'd be going to a little teahouse or something of that nature."

"Nope. They're going to a noisy pizza restaurant."

Arthur is quiet a minute. _Do I dare?_

"Arthur?" Wayne prompts.

"Fancy a bite of pizza for lunch, mate?" Arthur asks.

"Come pick me up. I'm at Morgana's," Wayne answers without a moment's hesitation.

"What time was the reservation?" Arthur asks.

"Twelve thirty. So they should be there already."

"Good. I, um, don't really want to be caught spying."

"Yeah, we wouldn't want the Crumpet to kick your ass the day before your wedding."

Arthur laughs, and parks. "There's Morgana's car," he says, pointing.

Wayne looks at him, eyebrow raised. "How do you know Morgana's car?"

"I saw it once. I never forget a car," Arthur says, then looks square at Wayne. "Wait. Are you… _jealous?_"

"Certainly not," he says unconvincingly. "I was just curious as to how you knew what her car looked like."

"You're really hung up on her, aren't you?"

He sighs. "Maybe. But don't tell; I'd never hear the end of it!"

"Oh, heavens, we can't have people thinking that you've been _tamed,_ now, can we?" Arthur rolls his eyes.

"Piss off," he says. "Let's go eat. I'm hungry."

They surreptitiously survey the restaurant for signs of the girls. "They must be in the party room in back," Wayne decides, and they request a table near the back, but not _too_ near. He flirts shamelessly with the young hostess and they are seated right where they want.

They order their pizza, and try to figure out how to find out what's going on in the room. Occasionally they hear noises, but they can't hear anything. Wayne gets up and casually saunters past the door. There is a window in it, and he peeks as he passes.

"They're having fun, that much I can see."

"Obviously. I feel like an old busybody," Arthur admits.

"That's because you are, mate," Wayne laughs.

Just then a man dressed in a firefighter's uniform enters the restaurant, and both Arthur and Wayne look, trying to see who it is. They also look around for signs of smoke or other problems.

"I don't recognize him," Arthur says.

Wayne peers intently. "That's because he's not a fireman. He's a stripper," he grins.

"_What?_"

"Looks like Morgana has a little surprise lined up for our Crumpet," he laughs.

As the faux fireman passes, Wayne calls out, "Hey, Trevor."

He stops, startled. "Wayne! How the hell are you?"

"The ladies say I'm the best, and I'm inclined to believe them."

He laughs, then says, "Hey, I'd love to stay and chat, but I'm late."

"Have fun, mate."

Trevor disappears, and Arthur looks at Wayne as if he has suddenly grown antlers.

"What?"

"You _know_ him?"

"Sure, we were at school together. Dumb as a box of rocks, but a good dancer."

Arthur laughs at this. "I gotta see this," he says, standing and creeping over to the doors.

"Excuse me, ladies, but I've had a report of some excessive… _hotness_ centered in this area?"

Morgana points at Gwen, declaring, "I believe the source is right here!"

"Morgana!" Gwen laughs, shocked. _I don't know why I'm surprised, really._

Trevor the fireman/stripper pulls a portable iPod dock out of a pocket and sets it on the table. He switches it on and begins, removing his helmet and placing it on Gwen's head before beginning a circuit of the table, peeling layers as he goes.

Morgana thrusts a wad of pound notes into Gwen's hand, laughing devilishly. "So you're prepared when he gets back around to you."

Gwen shoves her friend playfully, laughing as Trevor sits in Thea's lap. She feeds him a bit of pizza.

He gets to Morgana, and she snaps his suspenders against his bare chest, so he pulls them down off of his shoulders, waving his finger in mock reproach. She blows him a kiss, and he moves on to Gwen, pulling her chair back from the table so he can stand in front of her.

Just then, Morgana notices some motion out of the corner of her eye. She looks up at the door, and sees Arthur's face disappear from the window. Smirking, she holds her gaze there until his face returns.

She watches as his blonde head slowly emerges in the window again, and she raises her eyebrows at him.

_Busted._

She winks, though, and he raises a finger to his lips, and she nods slightly.

"Morgana saw me," he turns and whispers to Wayne.

"Oh no!"

"No, it's okay. She won't tell. Come look; it's hilarious."

Wayne squishes in next to Arthur, and they both watch. Morgana spots them and rolls her eyes, in an _I should have known_ sort of way.

Trevor has yanked his trousers off by now, and he is in the middle of giving Gwen her own lap dance. She is laughing so hard that she is crying now, and tucks some pounds into his g-string. He grins and turns around, waving his rear at her, which she spanks.

Arthur chokes back a laugh and has to turn away, coughing. He takes a drink of water, and he returns just in time to see Morgana take one of the pounds from Gwen, fold it lengthwise, and tuck it into Gwen's cleavage. Trevor leans down and removes it with his teeth.

Wayne glances at Arthur, a little concerned, but he is pleasantly surprised to see that Arthur is quietly laughing almost as hard as Gwen is. He pats his friend on the shoulder and chuckles.

"Excuse me, gentlemen, but that is a private party," a voice behind them interrupts. It is the manager, and he does not look amused.

They wheel around like little boys caught peeking into the girls' locker room. "Um. Yes, we know. That's my fiancée in there getting a lap dance," Arthur explains.

"So you're _spying_ on your fiancée's hen party?" He raises an eyebrow at Arthur.

"Yes. Yes, I am."

"Well, you've got balls, I'll give you that," he says and walks away, shaking his head.

Wayne laughs at Arthur, who simply says, "Sometimes honesty is the best policy," before turning back to peek inside.

Trevor finishes his performance, and the ladies all cheer for him. He bows, saying, "Thank you, ladies, you've been most kind."

He retrieves the cash that has been tucked into his g-string and collects his things from the group. Autumn has his coat, Freya, his boots. His trousers landed somewhere between Thea and Morgana. From his coat he pulls a plastic toy firefighter's badge and pins it on Gwen.

"Almost forgot this," he grins, and she laughs again, handing him his hat.

"What's your name, darling?" she asks him.

"Trevor."

"Well, Trevor, thank you. You've made this quite an unforgettable lunch." Gwen stands and gives him a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks, Trev," Morgana calls, blowing him a kiss.

He waves and heads out the door. Arthur and Wayne hurriedly take their seats and resume eating.

"Trevor," Wayne calls again as he passes by their table. He stops and turns, slightly sweaty now but smiling.

"Good group?" he asks, feigning innocence.

"Yeah, they were a lot of fun. It's always good when they're all cute, you know?"

"I suppose that does make it easier. Oh, Trev, this is my friend Arthur," Wayne finally introduces them.

"Nice to meet you," Arthur says, and they shake hands.

"You, too. You work with Wayne?"

"Yes," he chuckles.

"I know," Trevor laughs, looking down at his costume. "It was requested. Apparently the bride is marrying a fireman."

"Oh really?" Arthur asks, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah. Tomorrow I get to be a construction worker."

"Wow, all you need is the cowboy and policeman and you've got like half of the Village People."

Arthur and Wayne laugh at this, but Trevor looks blank. "Who?"

"Never mind, mate. Nice seeing you again," Wayne says.

"Yeah, nice meeting you, Arthur," Trevor says and makes his exit.

"Told you he was dumb," Wayne says.

"Good thing he can dance. Once he loses his looks, though, he's toast."

Morgana brings Gwen back to the flat to find Arthur and Wayne playing video games.

"Wayne? What are you doing here?" Morgana asks, an impish look in her eye.

"Well, it's no fun blowing up zombies by yourself," Wayne answers nonchalantly.

"I see," she says, deciding to let them off the hook. _For now._

Gwen leans down and kisses Arthur, who pauses the game so he can pull her into his lap to kiss her hello properly.

"I missed you," he says into her neck.

"I missed you, too."

"Did I really talk to you this morning?"

"Well, perhaps you'd remember if you weren't so blasted hung over this morning," she says, looking pointedly at Wayne.

"Come on, Wayne, Gwen still has to pack for tonight. See you later at the house," she says, pulling Wayne off the couch.

He hands the controllers to Gwen, saying, "Take over for me, Crumpet."

Gwen laughs, scooting over to sit beside Arthur, "What are we playing?"

"_House of the Dead,_" Arthur tells her, and resumes the game.


	61. Chapter 61

"I don't like this," Arthur says as they drive to the Manor.

"Don't like what?"

"You staying over night here, while I have to be back at the flat. Alone."

"You know the groom isn't supposed to see the bride on the day of the wedding before the actual wedding."

"Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"Love, there's nothing I would like more than to spend the night sleeping in your arms, but it's just not going to happen. Even if I wanted to break the tradition, I don't think Morgana would let me," she laughs. "She's fanatically superstitious, you know."

He pulls into the drive and he carries Gwen's bags as they walk to the house.

"Hello?" he calls, looking around. The parlor is completely empty, save the piano in the corner. "Father? Leah?"

"Arthur," Uther emerges from the sunroom in back. "Hello, Gwen, lovely to see you, dear," he comes and kisses her cheek.

"Mr. Pendragon, what's happened to your furniture?" she asks, expressing the thought on both hers and Arthur's minds.

"It's in storage. Needed the room for the reception, and I'm moving soon anyway. Some things, pieces I'm leaving for you, are in other rooms temporarily. And the piano obviously needs to stay here."

"That makes sense, actually," Arthur says.

"Gwen, feel free to use any room. Except mine," he jokes.

"And you probably could have that if you asked him," Arthur rolls his eyes.

Uther considers this. "Probably," he grins.

"I know exactly which room I want to sleep in tonight," she says, and leads the way up to Arthur's old bedroom.

They drop her things in Arthur's room and head back down to say hello to Leah and her sister Tess as they start getting things prepared for tomorrow. Tess conveniently owns a catering company and will have a full staff working for them tomorrow.

"Everything looks wonderful so far," Gwen says, and Leah turns.

"Hello!" Leah comes over and hugs them both. "Are you getting excited? I know I am!"

"Leah, you sound like you're seventeen," Tess teases her, smiling at Arthur and Gwen.

They chuckle warmly at the housekeeper's giddiness. "Yes, it hardly seems possible," Gwen says. Arthur reaches for her hand.

"What time is everyone else coming tonight?" Gwen asks Arthur as they walk back out.

"Not for another half an hour. Why?"

"I want to give you your present."

"My present?"

"Yes, your wedding present. From me to you."

"But…"

"No buts. You'll understand why when you see it."

"But I don't have yours with me."

"That doesn't matter."

"It does to me."

"Arthur," she stops. She leans up and kisses him, her hands on his chest. "Just let me give you your damn gift, all right?"

"Mmm," he opens his eyes slowly and gazes down at her. "How can I refuse you anything?"

She smiles and takes his hand, pulling him towards his room. "Sit," she commands, and he plops down on his old bed.

She digs into her bag and pulls out a small square box, about the size of a grapefruit. He takes it, and contemplates it a minute before peeling back the paper.

Gwen sits next to him on the bed, watching excitedly, her hands clasped in front of her mouth. _I hope he likes it._

He removes the paper and opens the box to reveal a beautiful Cartier watch, unlike one he has ever seen before. The face is bright red and just below the center is a small gold dragon matching the one on the Pendragon coat of arms hanging in the foyer downstairs.

"Guinevere, this is… amazing. Did you have this _made_ for me?" he whispers, very impressed and incredibly touched.

"Of course. Do you like it?"

"I love it. It's beautiful." He takes it out of the box and holds it in his hand, for closer inspection.

"Turn it over," she says.

He does. Inscribed in the back are the words _Forever, again and again. I love you, Guinevere._

"Thank you. I… don't know what to say. Thank you," he says, his eyes misting slightly. She smiles and kisses him gently.

"Well, I couldn't have you wearing _that_ ratty thing for our wedding," she points at the watch on his wrist. The leather band is starting to crack and the crystal is scratched.

He laughs and says, "Well, I'll still wear this one for work, obviously."

"Probably a good idea," she smiles again. He contemplates her lovely face a moment before he leans over to kiss her, pressing her back onto the bed, his hand on the side of her neck, tongue sliding into her mouth. She kisses him back longingly, her hands moving into his hair, holding him to her.

He leaves her lips to nibble her ear and kiss down the side of her neck.

"Arthur," she says.

"Hmm," he vaguely replies.

"The… door's open… and… your father's… downstairs," she gasps.

"I know," he says softly into her ear, "that's the only reason you're still dressed."

This brings a burst of laughter from Gwen, which Arthur promptly kisses into silence, his hand sliding down to her waist, around beneath her, holding her.

Just then there is a polite throat-clearing and a soft knock at the door. Arthur's shoulders droop and he sits back. "Yes, Father?"

"Just thought you'd like to know that Gwen's father is here," Uther says.

Gwen sits up, blushing, and notices that Uther actually looks rather amused.

"Father, look at this," Arthur hops up and shows him the watch.

"_Very_ nice," he nods. "It turned out quite well, Gwen."

"_You knew?_" Arthur is flabbergasted.

"Well, yes, from whom do you think she got the image of the dragon?" Uther chuckles and walks away down the hall.

A few minutes later Arthur and Gwen come down the stairs. "Hi, Dad," Gwen says, smoothing her hair surreptitiously.

"Guinevere, you're looking lovely as always," Tom says, but he doesn't move.

"Dad?" she asks, walking toward him.

"I have a surprise for you," he says, then steps aside to reveal a shorter, older man, very distinguished-looking with snow-white hair and a goatee.

"Granddad!" Gwen exclaims, running to hug her grandfather.

"En Español, por favor," he says, a twinkle in his eye.

"¡Abuelito!" she obliges.

"Muy bien, Chiquita," he says, hugging her again and kissing her cheek.

"Arthur," Gwen turns to him, "this is my grandfather, Robert Grayson. My mother's father, obviously. He's been retired in Ibiza for several years now. I wasn't sure if he'd make the trip over or not."

"I wouldn't miss it, Gwennie," Robert says, eyes twinkling at her.

"Granddad, this is Arthur."

"Very pleased to meet you, sir," Arthur says, shaking the man's hand.

"Nice to meet you, Arthur. I expect you'll take good care of my Chiquita, yes?"

"It's my favorite thing to do, sir," Arthur smiles, wrapping his arm around Gwen's shoulders.

"He's a good man, Bob," Tom says. "He's already been given the third degree by Elliot and me."

"And a few others, actually," Arthur laughs.

"Well, good," he nods.

"So, what's the plan?" Tom asks.

"Um, we wait for the others to arrive and go through the ceremony," Gwen says.

"Sounds exciting. And dinner after?" Robert asks, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

"We really don't have anything planned, actually. But I was thinking we could all go and take over Great Wall and gorge ourselves on Chinese food," she grins.

"Ooo, sounds good to me," Arthur says.

"Very well, then. I'll make sure to call ahead before we go, then, so they can have a table ready," Uther says. The doorbell rings again, and Arthur opens the door.

Morgana walks in, carrying a small valise. She is followed by Wayne, who is carrying three other large pieces of luggage.

"Moving in?" Arthur laughs.

"Well, I'm doing everyone's hair and makeup tomorrow, so I need my supplies," Morgana explains.

"Everyone's?" Arthur asks, smirking.

"If you want a touch of mascara and gloss, I'd be happy to oblige," she says, patting his cheek. She turns and sees Gwen's father and grandfather. "Pops! Granddad!" she exclaims and runs to hug them both.

She holds Tom at arm's length and declares, "You've lost some weight! Good for you!"

"Thank you for noticing, Morgana," Tom says, giving Gwen a look over Morgana's shoulder. She sticks her tongue out at him.

"When did you get in?" she says to Robert.

"This afternoon, dear. Thanks for keeping me secret," he winks playfully at her.

"Anything for you, you know that," she says, smiling at him. "Oh, this is Wayne," she introduces them. "Wayne, this is Gwen's dad Tom, and her grandfather Robert."

"Nice to meet you both," he says, trying unsuccessfully to hide his confusion as he attempts to connect the branches of the family tree.

"He's my father-in-law," Tom explains, laughing.

"Oh! Yes. Of course, sorry," Wayne says.

"Arthur, would you show Morgana to a room? She'll probably want to be near Gwen," Uther says.

"Thank you, Mr. P.," Morgana says and she and Wayne follow Arthur upstairs.

_Mr. P.?_ Arthur thinks, shaking his head.

Freya, Merlin, and Helena arrive next, and when the trio returns to the main floor, the parlor is busy with conversation and laughter. Arthur immediately goes to hug Merlin's mother and introduces her to Tom and Robert.

"I hope you don't mind me crashing the rehearsal, Arthur," she says. "It's not every day that my two favorite boys are a groom and best man, you know."

"Of course not! Hopefully it'll happen again soon, too," he says, directing his eyes toward Merlin and Freya.

"Not at the speed that one moves," she grins, rolling her eyes, and they laugh.

The vicar rings next, Reverend Geoffrey. He greets Gwen and Arthur warmly and more introductions are made. He's known Gwen since she was a girl, and he's gotten to know Arthur quite well this past month during their meetings with him.

People start looking at their watches. Elliot is late. No one is surprised.

Gwen sighs, pulls out her mobile, and calls him. Having learned his lesson, he actually answers.

"I'm on my way, I promise," he says immediately.

"Where are you _exactly?_"

"Um… walking to my car."

"Elliot!"

"Sorry, Gwen, I lost track of time at the gym."

"Just get here. You know the way?"

"I think so."

"Hold on." She hands the phone to Arthur and throws her hands up in disgust.

"I'm gonna kill him," she mutters between her teeth, walking towards Morgana.

"Don't worry, pet, I will phone him like a stalker tomorrow to make sure he stays on schedule."

"Good. He may actually listen to you."

"Well, let's go out back and take a look at the setup, shall we? While we still have some daylight?" Uther suggests, and they all file out the French doors leading to the back garden.

"Oh, it's beautiful, Mr. Pendragon," Gwen breathes when they walk outside. Chairs are set up with an aisle in the center leading to an area between two large trees, their branches arcing into each other like a natural canopy.

Uther walks over to her, leans down, and says, "You can call me Uther, you know."

Gwen smiles at him and nods, making a mental note for next time. Arthur looks at his father and says, laughing, "Who _are_ you?"

Uther shrugs dismissively at his son. They both know what has brought about his gradual softening. Or, more specifically, who.

Gwen walks forward up the aisle and sees that a stone patio has been laid there beneath the trees. "You had these stones put in?" she turns and asks him as the others mill around, pointing and commenting favorably on the garden.

"Yes, I did. I thought you could put a table and chairs out here in future," Uther replies.

Gwen smiles, and looks at Arthur. "That would be nice, to be able to preserve something from the day like that," he says, wrapping his arm around her.

Gwen roams around, touching the lavender bunting on the ends of the rows, noting some pedestals set up to receive flowers, and continues forward to stand on the stones. "There'll be an altar or a table or something here tomorrow, right?" she turns and asks.

"Of course, dear, I've got something for that," the reverend tells her, walking to join her.

"Hello? Anyone here?" Elliot's voice drifts out from the back of the house.

"No, we all got tired of waiting for you and left," Morgana shouts back.

"Finally," Gwen says when her brother emerges from the house and steps into the garden.

"Sorry," he apologizes again. "Hey, Dad. Granddad! Good to see you, old man!" he exclaims when he sees Robert.

"Old man? I'll give you 'old man,' you whelp," Robert laughs, switching Elliot's hug into a headlock.

"Ow! Okay, sorry!" he yells. Arthur and Wayne fall about laughing at the young rugby player almost brought to his knees by his retired grandfather.

Elliot looks daggers at them and says, "He's my granddad; I'm not going to fight back."

"Sure, mate," Wayne nods, clearly humoring him.

"Everyone's here, then?" Geoffrey asks.

"Yes," Gwen sighs.

"Let's begin, then."

An hour later, everyone knows what they're supposed to do. Or at least they are pretending to know because everyone is hungry.

Uther pulls out his phone and does a head count. "Geoffrey, will you be joining us for Chinese food?"

"Sorry, Uther, I have visitations to make at the hospital. Have something good and spicy for me, though," he says, nodding at him.

"I'll show you out, Reverend," Arthur says as Uther finds the number and dials.

They are the loudest table at the restaurant, but the manager knows they are big tippers and it's a special occasion, and he indulges them as they keep thinking of things they wish to order, sending the waiter running again and again for egg rolls, dumplings, more fried rice, more white rice, soup, chopsticks, tea, Tsingtao beer, and anything else they can think of.

As the meal winds down, the manager approaches with a tray for Arthur and Guinevere. "Sweet red bean soup and sweet buns for the bride and groom," he says, setting the dishes to them. "Some traditional Chinese wedding treats," he explains with a small bow. "The soup will bring you one hundred years of togetherness. The bun is made to look like a peach, which is a symbol of long life. It is filled with sweet lotus paste, for fertility."

"Thank you very much, this is most kind," Gwen says, leaning down to smell the soup.

"You are most welcome. The red color of the soup is lucky. Red is the lucky wedding color."

Just then his wife scurries forward with two glasses. "7-Up. Do not forget 7-Up! Lucky wedding drink meaning 'Seven Happiness!'" she exclaims, putting the drinks down in front of them.

Arthur chuckles warmly, and squeezes her hand. "Thank you Mrs. Chin," he tells her, and kisses her cheek. She is so tiny that he can do this without rising from his seat.

They politely sample the soup and buns, though they are both already full. "It's really good, actually," Gwen says to Morgana, who is wrinkling her nose at the soup.

After packing up the leftovers in takeaway boxes, the waiter returns with the bill. "Here we go…" Arthur mutters behind the bun he is lifting to his lips.

"I'll take it please," Uther says, holding his hand out.

"No, it is mine," argues Tom.

"Tom, traditionally the _groom's_ family hosts the rehearsal dinner."

"Yes, but you're hosting the whole bloody _wedding,_ Uther."

"I believe you've already written the check for most of the expenses, Tom."

"For the things you'd _let_ me pay for, yes."

As the two men argue, Robert signals the waiter over and hands him a credit card with a wink. He is gone before Uther and Tom have finished arguing.

"Yes, but…" finally Uther notices the waiter has returned with the receipt, which he hands to Robert. He signs it, grins fiendishly at Uther and Tom, winks at the laughing Gwen, and hands the paper back to the waiter.

"Bob!" Tom exclaims.

"So when are the two of _you_ getting married?" Robert asks them. Arthur just about splits open laughing as Tom and Uther scowl and scoot their chairs apart from one another.

"Freya, will you be staying at Uther's with us?" Morgana asks.

"I'm afraid not. I need to stop at the zoo very early tomorrow morning. I have a pregnant ocelot I need to look in on," she explains. Merlin places his hand over hers and she continues. "I'll be over directly after that, though, so we'll have plenty of time. No later than eight, I promise. Unless she delivers. Then maybe nine."

"So much for the slumber party," Morgana says, grinning.

"Aw, that would have been fun, sorry!" Freya says. "But I live so close to the zoo it's really easier this way."

"I know, darling, I was just teasing."

Gwen stifles a yawn, but it does not go unnoticed. "I think we've inconvenienced the Chin family long enough," Arthur says, standing and holding his hand out for Guinevere.

"Yes, I think it's time to go," Tom agrees. They pick up the bags containing the food and make their exit.

"I guess I'll go back to the flat," Arthur says to Gwen once he sees her inside. He says it as pathetically as he can manage. _Please don't make me go._

"Stay," she says, and his eyes light. "For a bit," she clarifies.

Morgana sweeps past on her way to her room and says, "Yes, love, I'll be checking at 11:59 and if your handsome ass isn't out of here by then, I will drag you out by your…" she looks down at his trousers, "…ear."

He nods solemnly and makes an X over his heart.

"Oh, Wayne took most of the food home with him, by the way," she calls over her shoulder, and they all laugh, not really surprised.

"Come on, you can tuck me in," Gwen says, taking his hand and pulling him to his old bedroom.

Once inside, he closes the door and reaches for her, pulling him to her, dipping his head for a kiss. She leans into him and kisses him, but when he starts pulling at her clothes, she stops him.

"Arthur," she says reproachfully.

"What?"

"No."

"No?"

"You can wait until tomorrow."

"But I thought…"

"I wanted to be with you for a while tonight."

"Right."

She rolls her eyes. "Not _be_ with you, just, you know, spend time with you. In a semi-wholesome, we'll-keep-our-clothes-on-for-once sort of way."

"Okay."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. I understand," he smiles, and hugs her. "You're saving it up," he laughs.

"Something like that, yes."

She changes into her pajamas, inadvertently tormenting him in the process.

"You aren't playing fair."

"I could have sent you out of the room, you know."

"Well, that would just be cruel."

They sit on the bed together, and Gwen looks around his room again as she lounges against Arthur's chest.

"Did you ever have any girls up here?" she asks.

"What? Um, maybe."

She raises her eyebrow at him, turning so she can see his face.

"I was a teenage boy, what did you expect?"

She laughs at him. "Did you ever get caught? With a girl up here?"

"Of course I did," he laughs. "Just snogging, I promise. Never even got to second base until I was at University."

"Oh, you poor dear, how ever did you survive?" she teases.

"Well, what about you? Ever get caught with a boy in your room? Or _in_ a boy's room?"

"No."

"I don't believe you."

"No really, I never did! I was a good girl."

"Really."

"Okay, well, I was… overly bookish. Boys weren't that interested in me."

"Their loss," he says, kissing her ear.

"Morgana, on the other hand…"

"No need to explain there at all," he chuckles.

"I was the Cute Girl's Smart but Relatively Plain Friend."

"See, now I don't see that at all."

"Well, you wouldn't, would you?"

"I suppose not. But I still think you're selling yourself short, love. You're anything but plain."

"Tell that to all the cute boys at my school," she snorts. "Not that it makes any difference now, of course." She snuggles into him, and he squeezes her.

"It wasn't until I was at University that men started to take notice. Of course, I was apart from Morgana and in a completely different crowd of people, people that didn't yet know that I was actually a big nerd."

Arthur laughs at this, "Well, _I_ love you, even if you are a big nerd."

"Oh!" she exclaims, laughing, swatting him playfully on the leg. He tackles her over and kisses her playfully, nibbling at her ear and neck.

They kiss and tease for a little while longer until they are tired out and end up just lying in each other's arms together on the bed.

"I love you so much, Arthur. I wish I could let you stay. I just want to lie like this all night."

"I know," he says, and lifts his head to look at the clock. Eleven thirty. He drops his head down, kisses her forehead, and says, "I should go before we fall asleep and Morgana comes in on a rampage."

He gives her one more squeeze and gets up. Then he pulls the blankets over her and does, in fact, tuck her in.

"I love you," he says, and kisses her one last time.

"Let me know when you've gotten home. You're tired and I want to know you're safe."

"I will."

"I love you. See you tomorrow afternoon."

"I'll be waiting in the garden."

_Home. Love you._


	62. Chapter 62

SATURDAY

WEDDING DAY

"Where is Freya? She should be here by now?" Morgana flails about, pacing.

"Morgana, settle down. It's only half eight. She'll be here. The wedding isn't until four anyway. Did you call Elliot?" Gwen says, calmly sipping her tea.

"Yes, he's up, but he's not happy," she grins.

"How many times did you have to call before he answered?"

"Just one. I called from your phone."

Gwen laughs at this. "When is Cedric due with the dresses?"

"Ten. He's very excited about your dress."

"I know. He was carrying on like a schoolgirl last I spoke with him."

Gwen's phone beeps. _On my way. Three cubs born!_

"She's on her way. Looks like her ocelot had her babies."

"Great," Morgana says, not really interested.

"Why don't we start my nails, since you're so itchy?" Gwen suggests, plopping her hands down on the table. They've set up shop in a small sitting room on the first floor, so they wouldn't have to be running up and down the stairs all day.

"All right. You're still sure you want blue?" she asks.

"Yes. I don't have anything blue."

"You don't have anything old, either," Morgana reminds her. "You've got my mother's earrings on loan for the borrowed, and of course you have a ton that's new," she ticks off a mental checklist of the four things a bride is supposed to have.

"Father promised me something. He was being very vague about it, but he says he has something."

"Intriguing…" Morgana says, sitting. "Okay, these are all my blues," she says, producing a half-dozen different shades for Gwen to choose from.

"Too dark, too green, too purple… ah. This will do nicely," Gwen holds up a bottle of soft, silvery sky-blue polish.

"I was hoping you'd go with that one. Let me see how much repair I'm going to have to do now…"

Halfway through Gwen's manicure, they hear Freya ring the bell. Uther lets her in and shows her back. She looks a mess.

"Freya! What on earth happened to you?" Morgana exclaims, horrified. Freya is dirty, her hair in a disarrayed braid, and there is a scratch on her arm.

"Well, how many ocelots have _you_ birthed?" Freya says, and Gwen laughs.

"Were there difficulties?" she asks as Freya sits.

"A bit. We almost lost the mother, actually. She's doing fine now. Scott is staying with her for the day. He's another vet at the zoo," she explains.

"Wow, you've had a morning," Gwen says.

"Oh! I've got pictures of the cubs!" Freya remembers, pulling out her phone.

"I don't want to see anything gross," Morgana says, and Freya sighs.

"Of course not. But I must show you," Freya says, and holds her phone over so Gwen can see. The first shows the three cubs. "Two males and a female," she explains before swiping her finger across the screen to the next shot.

"This is Arthur, the larger male." She swipes to the next. "And Guinevere, the female."

"Freya! You named the babies after us?" Gwen asks.

"Of course. I told them my favorite cousin is getting married today and I wanted to name the cubs for her and her future husband. Hope you don't mind."

"Why would I mind? I am honored! Wait till Arthur hears!"

"What did you name the third?" Morgana asks.

Freya swipes her finger across the screen a final time, bringing up the third cub, which has darker markings than the other male. "Merlin," she admits, blushing.

"I knew it!" Morgana yells, and all three women laugh.

Uther, ever curious, is drawn back to the room by all the noise. "Ladies, the neighbors are going to complain," he teases.

"Oh, come now, P., what neighbors? No one lives around here!" Morgana replies, still laughing.

"Well, then at least tell me what all the ruckus is about," he puts his hands on his hips.

"Freya's ocelot had three cubs. And she named two of them after Arthur and me," Gwen tells him. "The third one she named for Merlin, which is why we were laughing. Show him the photos, Freya. They're so cute." Freya stands and shows Uther the shots.

He smiles, nodding his approval. "Freya, that was very thoughtful. Though I'm not so sure about 'Merlin.' Are you certain the poor cub won't be traumatized?"

"Mr. Pendragon!" Freya exclaims, laughing. She knows he is teasing her, remembering that he has known Merlin a very long time.

"Freya, if you'd like to shower or something…" Morgana says, clearly indicating that she thinks Freya _should_ take a shower.

"Yes, that was the plan," Freya stands. "My bag is still in the foyer. I wasn't planning on attending the wedding smelling of ocelot afterbirth, you know," she says pointedly at Morgana before walking out the door.

Gwen laughs while Morgana makes a disgusted face and goes back to Gwen's nails. "You are the oddest bride ever, do you know that?"

"Why do you say that?" Gwen asks.

"Because you're so… calm. Like this is just an ordinary day."

"You're flipping out enough for both of us. Besides, the details are all handled, why would I worry? And honestly, as long as I end up married to Arthur by the end of the day, nothing else really matters, does it?"

"I suppose not," Morgana says, angling her head thoughtfully. "You're still odd, though."

Gwen's phone rings. It's Arthur. Morgana grabs it.

"Good morning, dumpling," she coos into the phone.

"Hi, Morgana. Can I talk to Guinevere please?"

"No, you may not."

"Oh, come _on,_ I know I can't see her, but I can still talk to her," he complains.

"Her hands are occupied at the moment. I'm giving her a manicure."

"Well, doesn't that mean yours are also occupied?"

"She's soaking. What do you want?"

"I _want_ to talk to Gwen."

"Too bad. May I help you?"

He sighs. _I'm not going to win._ "Just tell her that I miss her and I love her and four o'clock cannot get here soon enough."

"I will do that."

"I'll wait." _If she can be a pain in the neck, so can I._

Now it is Morgana's turn to sigh, and Arthur hears her tell Gwen what he said.

"Tell him I love him too and I wish he were here," he hears Gwen's voice.

"She loves you, too," Morgana says into the phone.

"And…?" Arthur prompts.

"Don't go getting any ideas, Pendragon, but she says she wishes you were here."

He smiles. "I heard her, actually. But I was having such fun being a pain."

"Yes, I know. Is that all?" she asks. Then, to Gwen, "What? Oh yeah."

"Gwen says to tell you that Freya's leopard—"

"Ocelot." Gwen's voice.

"Whatever. _Ocelot_ had her cubs and she named them Arthur, Guinevere, and Merlin."

"Really? Wow, that's cool. I have an ocelot named after me. Brilliant." He smiles at the gesture.

"Honestly, you guys, I don't see the big deal."

"You're just jealous that she didn't name one after you," Arthur teases her.

"Hardly. What? He says I'm jealous."

"She couldn't name something after you because she doesn't specialize in praying mantises, Morg," Arthur hears Gwen say, and he bursts out laughing.

"Oh, ha ha, both of you," Morgana says. "Goodbye, Arthur."

"See you later."

Gwen's nails are done and Morgana is well into the now-clean Freya's when Uther reappears with Tom and Robert.

"Ladies, Gwen has a visitor," Uther says.

"As long as it's not Arthur," Morgana says, not looking up.

"No, just us," Tom says, walking over to Gwen. He has a box in his hands. Robert hugs her and sits in a chair opposite them.

"Permission granted, then," Morgana jokes.

"Guinevere, I promised you your something old," he says, handing her the box.

"Oh good, I was wondering about this," she says, taking the box. _What could this be? It's too large to be jewelry or a handkerchief…_ Opening the box, she lifts out a diamond tiara. It is not large, but it is quite beautiful and understated in its elegance.

"Daddy…"

"It was your mother's. And her mother's as well," Tom explains, nodding at Robert. "She wanted you to wear it at your wedding."

"It's beautiful. You've kept this secret from me all these years?"

"You're surprised by this?"

"You're crap at keeping secrets!"

"That's what _you_ think," he smiles at her, and she hugs him.

Gwen looks inside the box and sees a piece of paper. She lifts it out, opens it, and gasps.

_My dearest Guinevere, I wore this tiara when I married your father, and my mother wore it when she and Granddad got married. She gave this to me on my wedding day, and since I knew I would not be here for yours, I asked your father to keep it hidden so that he can give it to you on yours. I am sure that you have grown into a beautiful and wonderful young woman, and the man you have chosen to marry is very fortunate to have you as his wife. I wish you all the happiness in the world. Cherish each other always. Never take one another for granted. Enjoy each other, and love each other. Be his best friend as well as his greatest love, and he will be yours. Know that I am always looking down on you and watching over you. I love you always, my darling daughter. Love, Mum._

"Oh, Daddy," she falls into his arms, crying over the letter.

"What is it, Gwen?" Morgana asks. Tom hands her the letter, having read it over Gwen's shoulder. She and Freya read it also and soon they are also crying.

Uther and Robert read it next. Robert wipes his eyes, and Uther looks touched, though his eyes are dry. "That is really beautiful, Gwen," he says, handing it back to her. Then he reaches for a box of tissues and passes it around the room.

"If someone came in right now, they would hardly guess that there is a wedding taking place this afternoon," he says with a warm chuckle, and the mood starts to lift.

"Yes," Morgana sniffs, dabbing her eyes delicately. "We don't want the bridal party to have red, puffy eyes, now."

The doorbell rings. "That would be Cedric," Morgana says.

"I'll go let him in," Uther says, leaving.

"_Darlings!_" Cedric sweeps into the room, his assistant behind him with a large garment bag. "My goodness, what has happened? Why are you all sniffling?"

"Hello, Cedric," Gwen stands and hugs him, kissing his cheek. "This happened," she says, showing him the tiara.

"That is _fabulous._" He gasps. "Family heirloom?"

She nods. "My mother's. That's why we're all a mess now, sorry," she smiles weakly at him.

"Oh, honey, it's not a wedding if there isn't a room full of people crying at _some_point," he says. "Ooo! Let me see your nails."

She shows him. "Very chic," he approves. "Now. Dad, Granddad: Out. We have work to do here," he says, shooing Tom and Robert out the door, pushing Uther out as well before he shuts the door.

During lunch, Arthur tries again. Gwen's phone blips a text message.

_What are you doing?_ She picks up her phone and smiles.

"Is that Arthur?" Morgana demands.

"No," Gwen lies.

"Liar. I see your face, girl. It's him."

_Eating lunch. Your dad got us takeaway from some café nearby._

"Give me that!" Morgana reaches for the phone, and Gwen evades her.

"There's no rule about not texting the groom on the day of the wedding!"

_He did?_

_ Yes. We all got big yummy salads and soup._

_ I'm having a cold sandwich and water. Alone. In the dark._

_ No you're not. You're out with Merlin._

"What does he want?" Morgana asks.

"We're having phone sex via text."

Freya chokes on her drink.

"You are not."

"He's just being nosy, that's all."

_How do you know?_

_ Freya._

"Well, keep it short."

Gwen sticks her tongue out at Morgana, just as the doorbell rings again.

The Manor has been a busy place with people coming and going all day making deliveries and setting things up. The parlor has been outfitted with dining tables and a platform has been set up next to the piano in the corner for a jazz trio to play during dinner. The florist has been, sent away, and returned with the correct flowers. The baker just left, having delivered her wares. Leah and Tess are running around, barking orders like drill sergeants.

"I'll get that," Uther says, "you ladies finish your lunches."

Uther opens the door and is faced with a thin, pale young man, dressed in all black, bisected by a large belt covered in silver studs and a large belt buckle in the shape of a skull. He looks down his nose at the young man, noting his bright blue Mohawk, tattooed neck, and numerous piercings in his face. He has several large black cases with him and Uther spies a rusty van darkening his driveway, its side door sitting open.

"Yes?" he says cautiously.

"Hey, Gov," he nods.

"Young… man, we're having a wedding here today. I don't have time for your tale of retribution or in anything you might be selling. Even if I _was_ interested."

"Yeah, mate, I'm here for the wedding. I'm supposed to see Morgana."

Uther raises an eyebrow suspiciously. He turns his head slightly, not taking his eyes off the man. "Morgana?" he yells.

A moment later, she comes jogging out, "Yes, P., what is it, dear?"

"You know this _person?_"

"Kevin! You found us, excellent!" Morgana says, taking the pale man by the hand and pulling him inside.

_Kevin?_

"P., this is DJ Minstrel. He's from the Excalibur club. You know, the place where the engagement party was? Where Arthur and Gwen met? He's providing music for the reception."

"Ah."

"He's trustworthy, I promise. Come on, I'll show you were to set up."

Minstrel picks up one of his cases and follows Morgana inside, nodding politely at Uther as he passes. Uther watches him like a hawk, scowling at his black leather boots stomping across his floor.

He comes back through for more cases, and Morgana pokes Uther on the shoulder. "We were kids together, and he's not a criminal. Stop being so judgmental and let the man do his job, P."

Uther looks at her. He's not used to people talking to him like this, and his first impulse is to give this presumptuous little girl a piece of his mind. Then something breaks inside, and he sighs. _She's right. I shouldn't judge him based on how he looks. _He smiles a small smile of defeat and walks away, leaving him to set up.

"The men will be here at two thirty," Gwen says when Morgana comes back in.

"Well, we'd better move our things back upstairs after lunch, then. And when they get here, you are _not_ to step foot downstairs for _any reason_ until it's time for you to walk down the aisle."

"Yes, Mother," Gwen rolls her eyes and stands to clear her place.

"Can't wait till Morgana has a wedding of her own," Freya says ruefully. Gwen laughs at this, loudly.

The three ladies have transferred their things to Morgana's guest room. Morgana is working on Freya's hair when something taps on the window. They ignore it, thinking it is a twig or a leaf blowing in the breeze. Then there is another tap. Then another.

Gwen is about to go to the window, and Morgana stops her.

"Don't you dare!" She leaves Freya half-done and strides to the window, opening it.

Arthur is standing in the garden below. When he sees Morgana, he scowls.

"Go away," she tells him.

Gwen looks at the clock. Ten past two. She smiles and shakes her head.

"Is Gwen in there?"

"Perhaps. But she's not coming to the window."

"I know that. But a man can hope, right?"

"You'll get everything you're hoping for in a couple of hours. Until then any communication must go through me."

"I'm sure she can hear me, Morgana."

Gwen indeed can, and she laughs. Arthur's face brightens. He's heard her laughter and he knows she's there.

"What. Do. You. Want."

"Well, I _wanted_ to see Guinevere. But as that's not going to happen, just tell her that this has been the longest day _ever._"

"I heard him," Gwen smiles.

"She heard you," Morgana reluctantly relays.

He smiles, and turns to go. "Oh, one other thing."

"What's that?"

"Did she see a set of diamond cufflinks in my room? I thought I had them, but they might still be here."

"They're in a wooden box on the shelf with your fencing trophies," Gwen says, hopefully loud enough for him to hear.

He smiles, and starts for the house.

"Wait!" Morgana calls.

"What?"

"I will bring them to you. You are not to come upstairs."

He sighs. "Very well."

Three forty-five. Guests are arriving. Tom goes up to the room to see his daughter.

"Guinevere, you are beautiful," he says when he gets to the door.

"You're looking pretty good there, yourself, Daddy."

Tom comes in and hugs her carefully, not wanting to crush or smudge or damage any of the work that has been done to turn his already-beautiful daughter into the absolute vision of loveliness that is standing before him now. His eyes drift up to the tiara on her head. "It looks good," he assesses.

"Yes, it was good that you beat Cedric here with it. He was able to take apart the headpiece we had chosen and just turn it into this," she leans her head forward, and Tom looks and sees a simple comb with the veil attached, stuck into her hair right behind the tiara.

He smiles, holding both her hands in his own, and sighs. "You do look so like your mother."

"Do I?"

"Yes. It's your eyes. They're hers." He reaches up and rubs his thumb gently at the skin at the corner of her eye. "Even the color. Such a light shade of brown."

Gwen smiles, and says, "She'll be watching. She and Arthur's mum will have front-row seats this afternoon."

He chuckles and nods, amazed at her calm. "You okay?"

"Of course. I'm getting married in ten minutes, what's not to be okay about?" she laughs, and as she does so, she notices something off. Her hand flies to her right earlobe, and she gasps.

"What?"

"Morgana's earring! Where did it go?"

"On Morgana?"

"Dad, I'm serious! I've only got one earring. Morgana loaned me her mother's pearl earrings, and one is gone!"

"Oh! Not good…" he says, and they both drop to their knees and start feeling around on the rug.

"Check under the bed," she says, as she checks the top of the bed.

_Bathroom._ Gwen scurries out and looks in the bathroom, under the sink, behind the toilet, in the sink, saying, "Don't be in the drain, don't be in the drain…"

"Bugger!" she swears and returns to the room, eyes scanning the hallway rug as she goes.

"Anything?" she asks.

"Nothing yet," he says. "We need to find this before Morgana comes back up."

"No kidding." She turns around, scanning the room quickly. "Ow!" she suddenly exclaims, her hand flying up to her right shoulder.

"What now?" Tom asks, now getting really worried.

Gwen reaches into the neckline of her dress with her left hand, near her right shoulder, shifts uncomfortably a bit and digs her hand in near her right underarm.

"Found it," she declares, pulling the earring out of her bodice.


	63. Chapter 63

Mr. Tom Thomas

requests the honour of your presence at the marriage of his daughter

Guinevere Rose

to

Arthur Henry

son of

Mr. Uther Pendragon

Saturday, 20 October

two thousand twelve

at four o'clock in the afternoon

Camelot Manor


	64. Chapter 64

Arthur looks at his watch. His new watch. _Three fifty four._ He smiles at the gift, but frowns at the time. Tapping his foot, he fidgets and looks around. The sky, which had been blue and sunny all day, is clouding up. _Don't rain, don't rain. At least not until after and we're all inside._

When he looks at his watch again, Merlin pokes him. "Arthur. Settle down," he whispers.

He grabs Merlin's arm and looks at his watch. He drops it with a _humph._ "Is time slowing down?"

"No, Arthur, it's not," Merlin laughs. The reverend comes over just then, misinterpreting Arthur's behavior for nerves.

"Nervous, Arthur?" he asks quietly.

"Hmm? No, Reverend, not nervous. Anxious. Overly excited." He glances at the sky again, hopping lightly from one foot to the other.

"Oh, that's good," Father Geoffrey says. "I didn't think you'd be nervous." He smiles at Arthur and walks back to his place.

"It won't rain, Arthur," Merlin says reassuringly.

Uther chuckles, watching his son. Helena, seated beside him, leans over and says, "Arthur looks very handsome."

"He looks like he's about to jump out of his skin," he laughs. "But yes, they all look quite dashing."

"I'm glad they went with charcoal. Black suits are so… somber," she says, noting the subtle stripe of the men's waistcoats and the lavender cravats. "Lavender must be Gwen's favorite color," she observes.

"Mmm," Uther nods. He turns and looks back towards the house, watching for any sign of movement.

"Merlin," Elliot whispers out of the corner of his mouth. Merlin turns.

"Yeah?"

Elliot is standing facing him. "Can you see… is Elizabeth still giving me the eye?"

Merlin moves closer to Elliot, pretending to adjust his pocket square. He peeks out into the crowd.

"Mate, she's looking at you like she wants to have you for dinner."

Elliot's eyes open wide. "I don't know what I'm going to do," he admits.

"What's wrong? Don't you like her?"

"Yes, I do. A lot."

"So what's the problem?"

"She scares me."

Merlin stares. "What? You?"

"I'm just… um, not used to… aggressive women," he admits.

Merlin chokes back a laugh, but recovers quickly, clearing his throat. Just then Autumn walks up, nods at Reverend Geoffrey, and sits at the far end of the second row.

"We'll talk about this later. It's starting," Merlin whispers to Elliot and they resume their places.

He reaches out and squeezes Arthur's shoulder reassuringly.

"It's about time," Arthur mutters back over his shoulder. Four minutes after four. _It may as well be forty minutes past._

Father Geoffrey nods at Patrick, a young man sitting at a portable piano keyboard on a platform. He begins to play. _Liebestraum_ by Liszt.

Freya appears first, lovely and sweet in her lavender gown. It is long and simple, with a velvet wrap in a shade darker around her shoulders for warmth in the autumn chill. She is holding a bouquet of purple Peruvian lilies and sprigs of lavender, flanked with baby's breath and trailing ivy. She is wearing a simple amethyst pendant, a gift from Gwen, and her hair is up.

Merlin is transfixed, watching her approach. _Dear God she looks amazing,_ he thinks. She smiles warmly at him as she takes her place. Neither of them notice that Helena is beaming hopefully at her son gazing at his beloved.

Next is Morgana, in a gown of similar design to Freya's, but in ivory. It also has a matching velvet wrap. Normally beautiful, she looks stunning; her fair skin complemented by the ivory dress and her upswept dark hair a stark contrast to all the white. She has a similar necklace to Freya's and is carrying an identical bouquet.

Wayne stares as she passes. He has never seen her looking more beautiful, and he realizes that his jaw has dropped open when she catches his eye and winks at him. _I think I'm in love,_ he realizes, surprised. But even more surprising is the fact that he is happy about the realization.

The music changes. _Träumerei_ by Robert Schumann.

"Please stand," the reverend commands, and everyone does, turning their heads to the back, waiting.

As Guinevere appears on her father's arm, the sun pokes through the clouds as if God has heard Arthur's prayer and has obliged by shining the sun warmly down upon the radiant bride.

Time stops for Arthur. As she walks forward, her eyes lock onto him, and he feels helpless in her presence. She is breathtaking in a gown of a shimmery white, almost as if it is shot through with silver. The scooped neckline is wide, exposing a fair amount of her beautiful shoulders, and the sleeves are long. _I'm going to have to stop myself from touching that skin once she's up here,_ he finds himself thinking.

She's halfway down the aisle, and she doesn't even notice the cameras and smiles and appreciative whispers; all she sees is Arthur.

His eyes rove over her further as she approaches. A fitted bodice accentuating her narrow waist leads down to her hips, where a gold sash is draped and knotted loosely but elegantly in the back, its tails trailing down atop the train of her skirt. The ends of the sash are embroidered with red filigree. _That's different. I like it,_ he smiles. She has her mother's tiara on her head from which the veil extends, draping down over her hair, which Morgana has artfully arranged around it. It is mostly up, with a few tendrils strategically left loose to trail tantalizingly on her neck. Her bouquet is larger than the others, and it also includes some red roses sprinkled in.

They reach the front, and Arthur realizes he hasn't taken a breath since he laid eyes on her. He inhales deeply, and Gwen stifles a giggle.

Tom gazes at his only daughter, his first born, when they reach the front. _And so here we are,_ he thinks. "You look so beautiful, Guinevere," he whispers to her, turning to her.

"You said that already, Daddy," she smiles and replies.

"I know. I can't help it." He gives her a hug and kisses her cheek, then places her hand in Arthur's. He claps Arthur on the shoulder warmly, turns to Gwen, says, "I love you," before retreating to his seat beside Robert, across the aisle from Uther and Helena.

"She's gorgeous, Tom. And so happy, you can see that," Robert whispers to Tom.

Arthur looks at her. "You look amazingly beautiful," he whispers.

"So do you," she whispers back.

"You may be seated," Reverend Geoffrey announces. He continues:

"Dearly beloved: We have come together in the presence of God to witness and bless the joining together of this man and this woman in Holy Matrimony…"

Morgana watches, not really listening to the vicar's words. She is watching Arthur. _The way he looks at her. Adoring her. She is his world. And I know she feels the same way._ She sneaks a peek out at Wayne. He isn't looking at Arthur and Gwen; he's watching her. _Is he looking at me the same way?_

A hymn snaps her out of her reverie, and she tries to pay attention. Arthur and Gwen are clearly not paying attention either, as they are completely lost in each other, holding each other's hands. Arthur strokes the back of her hands with his thumbs a few times.

_That still sends chills through me._ Gwen smiles shyly at him.

The reverend speaks again, asking if there are any among them who object. _Vivian and Lance aren't here, so…_ Gwen thinks, biting back a smirk.

Geoffrey looks to the crowd, truly expecting no response. The wind blows, and a few leaves drift down around them. Guinevere shivers slightly, as the sun has once again disappeared.

There are no objections, and he continues. "We will now have a moment of silent prayer. Please take a few moments to lift your thoughts to God."

He gives everyone a minute, then resumes. "O God, You have so consecrated the covenant of marriage…"

_He reminds me of how I was at our wedding,_ Uther allows himself to think. He remembers that day. _It was warm, almost hot. Yvette looked stunning, ethereal. I was so young and full of life and ambition. I loved her so much…_ Vaguely he is aware of Helena offering him a tissue. She doesn't look his way, doesn't call attention to what she has noticed. He takes the tissue and silently thanks her for her discretion.

"Amen," he finds himself echoing the reverend with the rest of the guests.

As Leon walks forward to offer a reading, the wind picks up again and a few more leaves blow. Arthur begins to worry that Guinevere will get cold and glances skyward again, sighing. Gwen notices his worry and smiles reassuringly at him, squeezing his hands in hers.

"_…Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and they shall become one flesh._" Leon concludes, and returns to sit beside his wife, pulling their son into his lap.

"Thank you, Leon," the vicar says. He then turns his attention back to the couple.

"Guinevere, will you have this man to be your husband; to live together in the covenant of marriage? Will you love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, and be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?

"I will."

"Arthur, will you have this woman to be your wife; to live together in the covenant of marriage? Will you love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, and be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?

"I will."

Geoffrey turns to the congregation and asks, "Will all of you witnessing these promises do all in your power to uphold these two persons in their marriage?"

"We will."

"Let us pray."

_Another prayer?_ Elliot is getting antsy. He loves his sister dearly, and knows Arthur is a great guy, but he isn't used to standing still for this long. He fidgets slightly, until he notices his father giving him a glare. He resumes standing still, clenching his jaw in defeat.

"Arthur, take her right hand and repeat after me."

He does so and repeats the words: "In the Name of God, I, Arthur, take you, Guinevere to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death. This is my solemn vow."

He releases her hand. "Guinevere, take his right hand in yours and repeat after me."

"In the Name of God, I, Guinevere, take you, Arthur, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death. This is my solemn vow."

She reluctantly releases his hand as the reverend turns to Merlin. "The rings?"

Merlin produces them from his pocket and hands them to the vicar. Arthur tries to catch a glimpse, because he hasn't seen his yet, but the vicar and the best man are too crafty and swift.

"Bless, O Lord, these rings to be a sign of the vows by which this man and this woman have bound themselves to each other; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

Geoffrey hands Gwen's ring to Arthur, and she raises her left hand.

"Guinevere, I give you this ring as a symbol of my vow, and with all that I am, and all that I have, I honor you, in the Name of God."

He slides it on her finger, and she sneaks a peek. _He took my ring and made it a set, _she thinks, overjoyed, noting that the diamond engagement ring has been soldered to an additional ring, wrapped about it very attractively, as if it was designed that way. Promising herself a more careful inspection later, she reaches for Arthur's proffered band.

"Arthur, I give you this ring as a symbol of my vow, and with all that I am, and all that I have, I honor you, in the Name of God."

Arthur inspects his ring as well. It is a simple band of brushed platinum nestled atop a wider band of shiny gold. _It's brilliant. She really knows my taste_, he thinks, impressed. He loves it.

"When you're ready…" Reverend Geoffrey says quietly to them, ready to continue.

"Oh. Sorry," Arthur grins.

"Now that Guinevere and Arthur have given themselves to each other by solemn vows, with the joining of hands and the giving and receiving of rings, I pronounce that they are husband and wife, in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Those whom God has joined together let no one put asunder."

_I have never seen her looking so happy._

_He looks as though he is bursting with joy._

"Elana?" Geoffrey calls Elana forward.

She reads. "_Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude…_"

Merlin sneaks a look at Freya, trying to catch her eye while Elana reads. She finally looks up at him through her lashes, flirting just a little. She presses her lips together and her thoughts betray her to Merlin. _She's thinking about us. The possibility of our wedding_, he realizes. His heart quickens at the thought of it, and he cannot help but rearrange the players in today's wedding in his mind. He meets her eyes and wills them to tell her that he loves her.

Her lips part as she gasps just slightly, a half smile playing about her lips. _Message received._

Elana returns to her seat, and Arthur and Gwen kneel before the table in front as the reverend prays over them, seeking God's blessing over them. Arthur reaches over and takes Gwen's hand. It is like ice.

The Lord's Prayer is said, and Arthur and Gwen stand again and face each other, holding each other's hands once again.

"God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy spirit, bless, preserve, and keep you; the Lord mercifully with His favor look upon you, and fill you with all spiritual benediction and grace; that you may faithfully live together in this life, and in the age to come have life everlasting. Amen."

He then nods at Patrick, and he starts to play again. Autumn is now seated beside him at the keyboard as he plays the opening bars of "All I Ask of You" from _The Phantom of the Opera._

As he sings the first part of the duet, Arthur and Gwen, accompanied by Merlin and Morgana, step forward to sign the register to legally complete the marriage. As Guinevere signs her name, Arthur notices her hand is trembling slightly.

_Surely she can't be nervous,_ he thinks, then he remembers seeing her shivering earlier and recalls her cold hands.

Wayne rolls his eyes dramatically at the singing. Paul elbows him, whispering, "Shut it. I like this so—" he stops mid-word when Autumn begins her verse, and his eyes fly to her, rapt. Her rich mezzo-soprano voice, surprisingly powerful from her slender frame, washes over him and he is mesmerized. Wayne looks at him, and says, "Uh-oh," and pokes Leon. He looks and just smiles. Paul remains entranced, watching Autumn in her turquoise dress, her thick shiny chestnut hair loose around her shoulders, letting her voice pour over him like warm honey.

Arthur and Gwen finish their paperwork, and return to their original places. Autumn and Patrick are still singing, halfway done. Arthur sneaks a peek at the vicar, and unbuttons his coat. Both the reverend and Gwen give him a puzzled look as he removes his jacket. He holds it out to Gwen, and she slides her arms into his sleeves with a giggle. Geoffrey smiles and nods at Arthur. _No harm done._

The song finishes, and Reverend Geoffrey turns to the congregation. "It is my very great honor to be the first to introduce Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Pendragon. You may kiss the bride, Arthur."

With those words, Arthur pulls Gwen into his arms and kisses her, pouring all the love he feels for her into the kiss while striving to keep it appropriate for a wedding. It is walking a tightrope, and Gwen helps out by keeping her lips firmly together, much as she wants to part them for him. He reluctantly pulls away just before the kiss goes on too long. He whispers, "I love you," and takes her hand as Morgana hands Gwen her bouquet.

The vicar again nods at Patrick, who begins _Ode to Joy_ by Beethoven as the newly-married couple recess up the aisle and back into the parlor.


	65. Chapter 65

Merlin and Morgana follow the couple out, and Freya and Elliot bring up the rear of the wedding party proper. They all line up just within the French doors leading inside the house.

Tom and Robert exit next, followed by Uther with Helena on his arm. Arthur had insisted that she have that place of honor. _You're the closest thing I've known to a mother,_ he had told her, trusting that his father and Merlin's mother, who normally do not get along, would behave themselves for this one day.

As Uther walks back, a shock of white hair in the crowd catches his eye, and he turns his head. _It couldn't be…_ he thinks. _Why on earth would_ he _be here?_

Tom and Robert file through, hugging and kissing all the ladies and hugging the men. Tom holds Guinevere to him for a long time, squeezing back tears that are threatening. Gwen sees his glassy eyes and laughs warmly at him.

Uther hugs both Arthur and Gwen, and kisses Gwen on the cheek. He shakes Merlin's and Elliot's hands and goes off to one side.

Helena hugs Gwen, saying, "Take care of him, he's like a son to me, you know."

"I know, Helena, I will. I promise."

She hugs and kisses Arthur, and he squeezes her as if she were his own mother.

"You're going to break my ribs!" she exclaims, laughing, as he releases her.

"Mum," Merlin says, hugging and kissing his mother. "Thank you for playing nice with Uther." He leans in close and tells her softly, "I saw what you did. Are you getting soft?" he asks, grinning at her.

"Certainly not! I still think he's arrogant and pompous and acts too grand for his own good. However, I can see that he's softening a bit, and that is good to see."

"That would be Gwen," Merlin explains, laughing. Helena looks over at Gwen, who is smiling, eyes twinkling at the first of the guests coming through to greet them.

"She is something special," Helena says. "So is Freya," she says pointedly.

"Yes, Mum. I know. Don't worry."

The guests continue to greet the wedding party and the couple. Uther watches from the side, waiting to see how this man from his past knows Arthur and Gwen.

"Dr. Gaius," Gwen says, hugging him warmly and kissing his cheek. He kisses hers then, and holds her at arms' length.

"My dear Guinevere, do you do indeed look like a queen today," he says with a wink, and she laughs warmly and squeezes his hand.

"Arthur, my boy, I heard all about Tom's heart attack," Gaius says quietly to Arthur as he hugs him. "Good work, lad, good work. Well done."

Arthur nods and smiles at him, understanding the strange old man's meaning perfectly.

The firemen are next in line, and Gwen hugs Leon and Thea. Alec is hiding behind his mother, and Gwen peeks at him, waving.

"Leon!" Arthur exclaims, hugging his friend warmly.

"Hey Chief," Leon says.

"I could say the same to you now, you know," Arthur says. "I miss you on my crew, mate."

"I miss you guys, too, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't enjoying my promotion," he grins.

"Alec, mate, how are you?" Arthur holds out his hand to the boy, and he shakes it solemnly.

"Still not a smiler, eh?" Arthur says to Thea, hugging her.

"He brings it out once in a while," she laughs.

Paul envelops Gwen in a giant but gentle hug, leaning over her.

"Hi, Paul," Gwen laughs.

"You look lovely, Gwen," he says softly. He looks at her like he wants to say something else, but can't find the words.

"Paul? Is there something else?" Gwen says, still holding his hand.

"Um…"

"What's up?" Arthur asks, noting Paul's demeanor.

"The girl that sang…" he starts, blushing, hoping she'll understand what he's asking.

"Autumn," Gwen smiles broadly. "She works with me at the library."

"She was wonderful," he says softly.

"We'll introduce you," Arthur offers, slapping him companionably on the shoulder. Paul suddenly looks like he's going be ill.

"She's… single? She's not with that guy she sang with?" he asks.

Gwen laughs, "Oh, God, no. Patrick is as gay as they come."

"Oh, um…" Paul's eyes are wide, petrified.

"Paul, she's very sweet. Even for an American," Gwen offers, laughing. Then she leans up on tiptoe and say in Paul's ear, "And she likes tall guys."

Arthur laughs as Paul once again looks ill. _He's clearly smitten,_ Arthur thinks. _We'll have to do something about that._

"It's all right, Paul, we won't push. Much," Arthur says, shaking Paul's hand as Wayne approaches Gwen with a glint in his eye.

"Wayne," Gwen says to him, holding her arms out to hug him. He grabs her and dips her backward, kissing her.

Morgana and Arthur look on, stunned into temporary paralysis.

"That's enough, Wayne," Morgana finally says, recovering. She pulls him back by his collar.

He straightens up with a devilish glint in his eye and a smile that would make a prostitute blush as Gwen gasps for air, laughing uproariously, holding her stomach.

"Got her all warmed up for you, Chief," Wayne says, winking at Arthur.

Arthur looks at him. He is not angry, and not especially jealous either. Just exasperated. He knows that Gwen has always been immune Wayne's considerable charms, and her current laughing fit is just further evidence to this point.

"I assure you that it is not necessary, Wayne," he says levelly to him, and actually hugs him. "But do that again and I will knock you into next week. And that's child's play compared to what Morgana might do," he says quietly into Wayne's ear as they hug.

Wayne nods and grins, and moves on to harass Merlin.

"You threatened him, didn't you?" Gwen asks Arthur, smirking at him.

"Maybe a little bit."

She snorts and shoves him. "You know where my heart is, love," she whispers into his ear, and the feel of her warm breath and her soft lips at his ear makes his heartbeat quicken. He steals a quick kiss. Then another.

They greet the remaining guests and all file into the parlor for cocktails before dinner.

Gwen changes from the silver heels she is wearing into plain white sneakers, glad to be out of the three-inch heels. Arthur's coat is returned to him, but he doesn't put it on, choosing instead to drape it across the back of his chair at the head table. Cedric and Morgana collect the train of her dress and bustles it in the back, securing it with hidden buttons and loops so it doesn't drag on the floor or get in her way. The gold sash is removed from her hips to allow for this, but the dress is still beautiful without its unique detail. Finally, her veil is removed, but the tiara remains perched in her hair. _Much better,_ Gwen thinks.

Patrick is joined by two other young men on an upright bass and a small drum set near the piano in the corner and they begin to play background music as guests mingle and chat.

Uther spots Gaius again and corners Arthur. "Son, how do you know that man?" he asks.

"He's a friend of Guinevere's. He frequents the library, and they've become good friends. Nice old man, I like him. Why?"

"He was the Emergency Room physician that attended your mother," he says simply.

"What?" Arthur is stunned.

"He delivered you."

"Does _he_ know this? I mean, does he remember?"

"I don't know. I spotted him on the way back in here, but whether or not he remembers the name or recognizes me, I cannot say."

Arthur looks at the doctor. _Henry Gaius,_ he thinks. "Is that why my middle name is Henry?"

Uther nods. "He was an excellent doctor, and it was my way of thanking him for, um, saving you," he says, clearly pained at the memory. "Your mother wanted to name you Arthur William, but I took it upon myself to change your middle name. He was so kind, so wise. Top-notch fellow."

"Would you like to talk to him?" Arthur asks.

"No. Yes. I don't know," Uther says, conflicted.

"Come on," Arthur pulls his father's arm.

"Dr. Gaius," Arthur taps him on the shoulder, "I was going to introduce you to my father, but apparently you two have already met."

"Ah yes, Mr. Pendragon, I presume," Gaius says, extending his hand.

"Doctor, I'm, um, surprised to see you here," Uther says, a bit uncomfortably.

"It is a strange coincidence, is it not?" Gaius agrees, sneaking a sideways glance at Arthur that clearly says _There are no coincidences here._

"Are you still practicing?" Uther asks.

"Goodness no, I'm a retired library rat now," he laughs.

"You're a friend of Gwen's?"

"Yes, she's a wonderful girl, isn't she?"

"Very much so, yes," Uther agrees.

"And young Arthur has grown up quite well, I'm pleased to see."

"Indeed. So, I'm curious. Did you know, when you met him, that he was…"

"Not at first. Not until I learned his last name. One doesn't forget a unique name like that. Especially considering the circumstances in which I first heard it," he smiles sadly.

"Yes, I understand. But you didn't say anything to him? About his birth, I mean?" Uther is curious now.

He shakes his head. "I didn't feel it was my place, sir."

Arthur smiles at them. "Well, Dr. Gaius, I'm glad you could make it today. I've got to go find Gwen," he says and leaves the two men to talk.

Arthur finds Guinevere chatting rather suspiciously with Autumn, their heads close together, glancing surreptitiously in Paul's direction occasionally. He comes up behind Gwen and wraps his arms around her.

"Hello, Mrs. Pendragon," he purrs into her ear, bringing forth a wide smile from Gwen. He kisses her neck a few times.

"What are we talking about, ladies?" he asks.

"As if you don't know," Gwen laughs.

"Interested?" Arthur asks Autumn, nodding at Paul across the room.

She nods, smiling. "Very. He's _huge._ I like that in a man," she looks again. "Quite cute, too."

Arthur laughs. "He's a really good chap, but very shy. We may need to give him a gentle shove."

Leon passes just then, and overhears Arthur's comment. "You mean Paul?"

"Yes, how did you know?" Arthur asks.

"Good God, you should have seen him when she was singing," he nods at Autumn. "Hi, I'm Leon, by the way," he introduces himself.

"Autumn. Nice to meet you," she shakes his hand.

"Yes?" Gwen prompts.

"Totally smitten," Leon explains, laughing. "Thea's waiting for this, must dash," he says, holding a drink aloft.

Just then the trio in the corner starts a new song. Just the bass, the opening riff to _Fever_by Peggy Lee. Autumn sighs and says, "Oh no…"

"What?" Arthur asks.

"Autumn Kowalski, please report to the platform. We need your assistance," a voice comes through an amplifier, summoning her.

"I'd better go. There's no ignoring that man."

She sets her drink down and crosses the room, not rushing, taking care to walk past Paul on the way, even lightly brushing against him as she goes. Arthur and Gwen see this and laugh.

"That's my girl," Gwen says.

She reaches the platform, glares at Patrick, and begins the song. Gwen watches her. "She's singing to Paul," she says to Arthur. "Look."

He does, and smiles. She's looking right at him, singing the sultry song, and as far as Paul is concerned, there is no one else in the room.

"Well, this should be easy," Arthur says.

"Where's Morgana?" Gwen suddenly realizes that she doesn't see her maid of honor. "Dinner will be starting shortly, where did she go?"

Arthur looks around. "Wait a minute. Where's Wayne?"

They look at each other. _Oh, no._ Gwen sighs and looks at the ceiling, and Arthur starts to laugh again. "They'll turn up soon enough, I'm sure," he says.

The song finishes, and Autumn makes to leave the platform, but Patrick detains her again for another song. "Okay, _one_ more, then I'm _done,_" she says, and they start _Dream a Little Dream of Me_. Again she sings to Paul, who has moved closer to the platform in the corner.

"Why is she working in a library?" Arthur asks. "She's very good."

"She says she loves singing too much to try and make a career of it. Says she's afraid it would become work and she'd grow to hate it. I guess she'd rather keep it as a hobby, a passion, rather than a vocation."

"Interesting."

"I see your father has been talking with Dr. Gaius for a while now," Gwen says, indicating the two men talking quietly in a corner alone.

"Ah, yes, interesting story, that…" Arthur begins, wrapping his arms around her again and kissing her before explaining anything.

Just before the guests start sitting at their tables, Morgana and Wayne reappear, slightly flushed. Wayne looks a bit disheveled but Morgana is inexplicably tidy, save her rosy appearance. Gwen sees them coming down the stairs together and fixes them in her gaze, hands on her hips, trying not to laugh.

"And where have you been, Miss Morgana?" She asks when they sit at the head table.

"Whatever do you mean?" Morgana replies innocently.

Gwen turns and _looks_ at her.

"Okay, yes, you caught us. There's this little crawlspace we found upstairs, and…"

"I'm familiar with it," Gwen interrupts matter-of-factly.

"Wait. You're familiar with it, or you're _familiar_ with it?"

Guinevere raises an eyebrow.

"Oh! You tart!" Morgana gasps.

"Hello Pot, my name is Kettle," Gwen retorts.

"Touché. Anyway," Morgana continues, leaning in close. "He loves me," she whispers excitedly. "He told me. He actually _loves_ me!"

Gwen gasps and hugs her friend. "And…?"

"Of _course_ I do, and I told him so, you silly cow," she laughs. "He wanted to talk to me alone, and I got worried, thinking he was going to be a complete ass and break up with me at your wedding, but then he just _said_ it. We were in the corridor upstairs. Then one thing led to another, and then we found this small door, and…"

"Yes, yes, I got it," Gwen smiles. "So I imagine you've worked up an appetite, then."

"A bit, yes," Morgana laughs.

"What was that about?" Arthur leans over and asks Gwen.

"They found your hiding place," she tells him in his ear, and he laughs. "But they said the Big Words, Arthur."

"Really? Wow. I was right."

"You were right?"

"I accused Wayne of being in love just yesterday, in fact," he grins, and she laughs. He kisses her again.

"I can't get enough of kissing you today," he whispers against her lips, and kisses her again.

"I have to find Leah and Tess and kiss them both," Arthur says between bites. "This food is _so_ good." He stabs another piece of beef with his fork and pops it into his mouth.

"I know, they've done an excellent job. Try my chicken," she says, reaching her fork over to his plate to help herself to a beef tip. "Freya, how is the eggplant?" Gwen leans forward to inquire after her cousin's vegetarian meal.

"Oh my God, I've died and gone to heaven," she says. "This girdle is going to get a workout tonight."

They all laugh at this, and Arthur reaches for a second bite of Gwen's orange-glazed chicken.

"Hey! I only took one bite of yours!" she protests.

"You'll never finish all this. Besides, there's cake yet." He grins at her and leans over to kiss her neck.

People are finishing their dinners and servers are circulating the room dispensing champagne. Leah comes to the head table with two bottles. She fills most of the glasses from one, and Gwen's she fills from the other, winking at her as she shows her that it is only sparkling apple cider.

"Arthur, you didn't have to do that," Gwen says when she sees him grinning smugly at her. "I would have been fine."

"I just remembered that face you made at our engagement party, and I couldn't have you scowling like that at our wedding," he chuckles, kissing her yet again.

Merlin grabs Leah quickly and sends her over to his mother, and Leah fills Helena's glass with the cider as well. Gwen sees this and gives Arthur a puzzled look.

"Helena's actually a recovered alcoholic. It was way back, before Merlin was born," he whispers into Gwen's ear.

"I had no idea!" Gwen says, trying to disguise her shock.

"Not many do. Father doesn't even know, actually."

"They don't get along, do they?" she says, more of an observation than a question.

"No, she thinks my father is a pompous, um…"

"Ass?"

"Yes."

Gwen laughs, knowing Arthur doesn't like to swear. She finds it cute but amusing as well.

Merlin, fidgeting, takes a deep breath and stands, tapping his fork against his glass for quiet. "Now or never," he mutters ruefully.

"Merlin hates public speaking," Arthur whispers to Gwen.

"Hello? Hello. I'm Merlin, if you don't know me. I just wanted to take a moment to say a few words about the happy couple. A very short moment," he says, clearing his throat while the other guests chuckle politely. "Arthur, Gwen, I wish you all the happiness that I know you both truly deserve. You really are meant to be together, and I know you will have a long and wonderful life together. I love you both and wish you only joy. To Arthur and Gwen," he raises his glass, and the room echoes him as they all toast the couple.

Merlin sits, face bright red, and Arthur leans over and hugs him. Gwen stands and walks to him and gives him a hug and a kiss as well.

After dinner, some tables are taken down and others are pushed to the perimeter of the room. The shining hardwood floor is swept, and DJ Minstrel takes over the entertainment. When Patrick closes the cover on the piano, Autumn looks visibly relieved. He's changed into more suitable attire, trousers and a clean, pressed shirt and tie. Still all black, but Uther approves.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please direct your attention to the dance floor for Mr. and Mrs. Pendragon's first dance as a married couple," Minstrel announces over the sound system.

Arthur takes Gwen's hand and pulls her to the middle of the room. _Strangers in the Night_ by Frank Sinatra starts, and Arthur grins down at her, quite pleased with himself for remembering.

Arthur holds his hands out in proper dance form, and Gwen looks at him, eyebrows raised in surprise as he holds her waist in his right hand and her hand in his left and begins a perfect foxtrot around the dance floor with her.

"You can actually dance?" she asks him, following his lead easily.

"Of course I can. I was a spoiled rich kid, remember?" he says, twirling her as she laughs.

"And here I thought I knew everything about you," she smiles at him.

"Oh, I'm full of surprises, me." With that, he abandons the ballroom dancing and wraps both his hands around her waist just as he had the night they met.

She brings her hands up behind his neck again, and he gazes down at her.

"I love you so much, Arthur," she says, her fingers in his hair.

"I love you, Guinevere," he replies, holding her closer, his hands on her back moving slightly, feeling the familiar contours of her shape.

"I can't wait until this is over with, you know," he confesses quietly to her within the safety of their embrace. The other people in the room may as well not even exist.

"Oh?"

"Yes. All I want now is to be alone with you. My wife." Her hand strokes his cheek, his earlobe, and he kisses her wrist as it nears his lips.

She smiles at the word, and leans up to kiss his chin. She brings her hands down from his neck and wraps them around his back, under his arms, and rests her head against his chest.

Arthur makes sure to remember to keep moving to the music this time, since people are watching.

In truth, the wedding guests are beginning to feel like intruders.

The song ends, Guinevere pulls back from Arthur, and they kiss as the guests applaud. Minstrel changes to a faster song to which all can dance, and soon the middle of the room is jumping and pulsing with bodies.


	66. Chapter 66

"I'm being told to say something about cake… No one wants cake, do they? Surely not. But if anyone is interested in such a thing, Arthur and Gwen will be doing their thing over there," Minstrel points, "like, now."

It's not really an actual cake. What has been wheeled out into the parlor is a table covered in cupcakes. Some are on a beautiful tiered stand and some are scattered around the table. They are beautiful. And they are filled. Arthur and Gwen have each chosen a flavor: lemon with a cream cheese filling for Arthur, with lavender icing, and chocolate with peanut butter filling for Guinevere, with red icing. All the cakes have a beautiful _A&G_ piped on their tops in white icing.

"I told you you'd pick the right one," Gwen teases Arthur as they approach the table.

"Ah, but which flavor should we choose?" he asks, eyeing them up.

"Let's go with the lemon," she says. "If you're feeding me, I don't want to risk getting any of that red icing on me."

"You don't trust me?" he asks, feigning shock.

"Nope," she laughs.

He selects a lemon cupcake from the very top tier, and unwraps the silver foil paper around it. Not actually needing to _cut_ the cake, he ponders it a moment, then holds it to Guinevere's lips for her to take a bite.

She opens her mouth wide, but only manages halfway, the cake is so tall. She does get some of the filling, thankfully, and she chews, saying, "Oh my _God,_" her mouth full of cupcake.

"That good?" he asks, chuckling at her. She nods, and takes the cupcake from him and holds it up for him.

He takes a huge bite, removing a good third of the cupcake in one go. Gwen laughs, and makes a show of counting her fingers to make sure they are still all there.

"This _is_ really good, you're right," he says around the cupcake in his mouth. He swallows, kisses her, and pops the last morsel of the cake neatly into Gwen's mouth.

The guests applaud again, and a queue forms of people wanting their dessert. Guinevere takes care to quickly nab one of the chocolate cupcakes before they move out of the way.

"So, what do you think? Aim the bouquet and garter for them?" Arthur asks as he and Gwen sit together at a table, close together, sharing their second cupcake and plotting.

"Too difficult to choreograph," Gwen says. She looks out. Paul has been hanging by himself off to the side. He looks as though he is enjoying himself, but Gwen knows he could be enjoying himself so much _more._

"He says he enjoys watching the action," Arthur says, following her gaze.

"This is not the time for that," Gwen says, laughing. "Okay, I have an idea. Try to hang out near Autumn for a while…"

"What are you two plotting over here?" Merlin plunks himself down next to them, a cupcake in each hand.

"We're trying to get Paul laid," Arthur says, and Gwen bursts forth laughing, swatting his arm.

"Oh, you mean with Autumn?" Merlin asks.

"How did you know?" Arthur asks.

"_Please,_" Merlin says.

"Right. Yes, Autumn."

"They've been peeking at each other all night, I noticed," he says.

As if on cue, Minstrel plays a slow song. "Ooo!" Gwen jumps up, and walks across the room to Paul. Arthur watches as she holds her hand out to him and pulls him to the dance floor. On her way there, she looks pointedly at Arthur, and then at Autumn. _Go!_

_Aha,_ Arthur thinks, and wanders to Autumn. "I've always wanted to dance with a Yank," he says to her, holding his hand out.

"Oh, you're a charmer, you are," she laughs and takes his hand.

On the dance floor, Arthur tries to maneuver closer to Paul and Gwen without being too obvious about it. He spies them and almost laughs out loud. Paul is more than a foot taller than Gwen and they look quite the pair. Autumn is several inches taller than Gwen, thankfully, but she's still nowhere close to Paul's gargantuan height.

Finally they are beside each other, and Arthur says, "Guinevere, you should be standing on a chair."

They all laugh, and then Arthur makes his move. "Hmm." He looks at Autumn, then Paul, then Gwen. He lifts Autumn's hand, gently pushes her over to Paul and takes Gwen from his grasp.

"Autumn, meet Paul. Paul, this is Autumn. See? Better. She's taller." Arthur grins at Paul, who is blushing furiously, and he and Gwen spin away from them.

"Hi," Autumn says.

"Hello," he replies. "I, um…"

"Yes?"

"I really liked your singing."

"Thank you. I liked watching you liking my singing," she smiles at him.

"Oh, I…" he stammers, embarrassed.

"I meant that in a good way."

"Oh." He bites his lip.

"Are you nervous?" she asks after a time.

"A little. You can tell, huh?"

"Your hand is sweaty. And your face is bright red," she says, venturing to touch his cheek, making him inhale sharply.

"Sorry," she says, withdrawing her hand.

"No, don't be. I… didn't mind. I liked it, I mean. It just surprised me." He releases her hand to wipe his sweaty palm on his trousers, and she takes the opportunity to put both her arms around his neck.

He hesitantly rests his abandoned hand around her waist with the other one, pulling her closer in the process. She smiles up at him and he bites his lower lip.

"Where in America are you from?" he finally thinks of something intelligent to say. "Your accent is interesting."

"You've never heard of it," she says, laughing.

"Try me."

"Sheboygan."

"You're right," he smiles.

"You have a really nice smile, Paul," she says.

"Thank you. You have really pretty eyes," he says shyly, looking down into large, bright blue eyes framed by long dark lashes.

"Thank you."

"Where is, um, Sheb…?" he's forgotten the name of the city.

"Sheboygan," she supplies. "It's in Wisconsin."

"Oh, okay. That's near… Chicago, right?"

Autumn is impressed. "In the vicinity. Chicago is just south of the state of Wisconsin. Then there's Milwaukee, as you go north."

"_Happy Days,_" he supplies.

"You know your old TV," she smiles.

"A lot of free time at the station some days."

"I see. So Sheboygan is about one hour further north of Milwaukee."

"Is it on that lake, too?"

"It is. Lake Michigan. The long skinny one in the middle."

"Yes, that one," he smiles. "I had to ask because I was wondering if you were from Fargo. You sound a little bit like the people in that movie."

Autumn laughs at this, and it makes Paul smile. "It's a regional thing. North Dakota, where Fargo is, South Dakota, Minnesota, Wisconsin, and the upper peninsula of Michigan – that's that bit that's not actually attached to the rest of Michigan – a lot of people in that area sound like that. And actually most of _Fargo_ the movie takes place in Minnesota," she says, intentionally accentuating the flat _oh_ sound in the middle of _Minnesota._

Now it is Paul's turn to laugh.

"They seem to be getting on quite well," Arthur observes. They are near the deejay station so he leans over and asks Minstrel to play another slow one to give their charges more time to dance and get acquainted.

"Honestly, my mother sounds just like Frances McDormand's police chief character in the movie," Autumn laughs. "I saw it, and was like, 'Oh my God, that's my mom.'"

"How did you end up here, then?" Paul asks, looking up as the song ends. Another slow song begins and he looks down at her. She only smiles, so he continues dancing with her.

Tom approaches Arthur and cuts in on her, demanding to dance with his daughter. Arthur hands her over reluctantly but respectfully, then decides to go and grab Helena. He finds he's rather enjoying being able to dance with any woman in the room.

"I came over as part of a study-abroad program in college. I fell in love with the country and stayed. Simple as that. My family was a little pissed, I mean, um, upset, at first, but they've learned to deal with it." She laughs, adding, "Sometimes I forget that words mean different things here. My family did not all get drunk because I left."

"I knew what you meant," he chuckles, enjoying being so close to her for this long. "I like how you talk, actually," he admits, and he blushes again.

"My accent has lessened some since I've been here. Two and a half years now," she says before he can ask.

"Really?"

She nods. "I was home this summer, and they all made fun of me."

"No!"

"Yeah, I told my brother that he bollocksed something up and he looked at me as if I had suddenly grown feathers. And then I referred to an elevator as a 'lift' and it was all over after that," she says, grinning.

"That's not very nice," he says, making a face.

"It's fine, really, I know they're just teasing me," she laughs. "Besides, it's hard to be offended when the people picking on you are the same ones for whom 'yah, yah,' is a complete sentence."

He stares a minute, puzzled, then laughs again, "Please tell me you're joking!"

"I wish I could," she laughs with him. "My shoulders are getting sore," she says and drags her hands down his shoulders to hold under his arms and around his back, much like Gwen was doing with Arthur before.

"Sorry," he says, but he enjoys her hands running over him.

"Don't be. I, um, like tall guys," she says to his chest.

"I probably shouldn't tell you that I'm the shortest of my brothers, then."

She looks up at him, eyes wide, "Holy crap."

He laughs again at her American turn of phrase. "Indeed. I have four brothers. I'm right in the middle; two on each side. And I'm the shortest."

"Your poor mother!"

"Well, we weren't _born_ this big."

The song ends, and Minstrel announces the wedding party dance. Paul and Autumn exit the dance floor. Paul takes her hand and leads her back to sit beside him in a corner so that they can continue talking. Gwen sees this and smiles at him. He blushes again and ducks his head, grinning.

"Husband," Gwen says, meeting him halfway across the dance floor.

"Wife," he nods at her, and pulls her to him.

Gwen looks around. She doesn't see Elliot, and Freya is standing alone, waiting for her partner.

"Wayne!" Gwen calls. "Go and peel my brother away from Elizabeth, please, dear," she says, pointing to where she sees Elliot and Elizabeth canoodling in a dark corner.

A minute later Elliot is being shoved onto the dance floor by Wayne, who then blows a kiss to Gwen. Merlin dances with Morgana, and Elliot dances with Freya.

"You and Freya seem to be getting on well," Morgana says to Merlin.

He nods. "You and Wayne?"

"Fantastic."

"Good. I'm happy for you," he says, smiling.

"We never would have worked out, you and me," Morgana says, addressing their own personal elephant in the room.

"I know. Sorry I wasn't more fun on our date. I'm kind of boring," Merlin grins.

"No, you're not. We're just too different, that's all. I would have eaten you alive, dear," she laughs.

"Probably," he relaxes and laughs as well.

Morgana looks over at Elliot and Freya, dancing politely together. "Let's go," she says, pulling Merlin in their direction.

"You two look pathetic. No one should have to dance with their cousin," Morgana says, swapping partners.

"Hi," Merlin says to Freya. "Have I told you how beautiful you look today?"

"Three times, yes," she says.

Tom asks Helena to dance, and they join the couples on the dance floor. Elizabeth strides up to Uther and pulls him to the dance floor with her. Arthur sees this and laughs at the expression on his father's face as the saucy ginger drags him along.

"You've packed for tonight as well, haven't you?" Arthur asks.

"Yes," she says. "But you haven't told me why. Are we staying here?"

"If you think I'm spending my wedding night under the same roof as my father, you're sorely mistaken."

"So where, then? Obviously not home." She runs her hands along the contours of his back. His waistcoat and ascot are now off as well, and his sleeves are also rolled up to his elbows. _Nice that_ he _can make himself comfortable,_ Gwen thinks, wishing she could slip into come cozy pajamas and continue partying in them.

"We've got reservations," he grins, but says nothing further, deciding instead to lift a hand to touch her shoulder just where it meets her neck, the place that has been tormenting him since he first laid eyes on her this afternoon.

She closes her eyes and enjoys the feel of his hand's caress, angling her head to the side to allow him better access. He takes the hint and bends to kiss the spot, his lips warm against her skin.

He wants nothing more than to continue exploring her neck and shoulders, but he resists, knowing full well that everyone in the room is watching them. So he lifts his head and kisses her lips once, softly, just as the song finishes.

The music changes abruptly, launching into _Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It) _by Beyoncé.

"Okay, children, you hear Beyoncé calling you, it's time to start throwing things," Minstrel announces.

Morgana hands Guinevere a small bouquet to throw, and joins the rest of the single females gathering at one end of the floor. Some are clamoring to be in the front, some are hanging towards the back, clearly not interested in receiving the bouquet. Arthur comes forward with a handkerchief, blindfolding her. She peeks at the group under the blindfold for a moment before Arthur spins her around. Once, twice, three times… four, five…

"Arthur… you're only… supposed to spin me… three times!" Gwen complains as she's being spun.

"Says who?" he says, and finally stops. "How many times did I do?" he asks her quietly.

"Nine," she says, reeling slightly. He chuckles, and holds her shoulders, steadying her a bit.

She flings the bouquet over her head, hoping that it lands with Morgana or Freya. She pulls off the blindfold and sees a very surprised-looking Elana standing there with the flowers.

"Landed right in her hands," Arthur laughs. Gwen smiles, goes over to Elana and hugs her.

_It's Raining Men,_ starts to play. Arthur spins on his heel and looks at Minstrel, an amused smirk on his face. The deejay just gives a friendly wave. _The man clearly has a sense of humor, _Arthur thinks.

"All right. Gents, and I'm using that term loosely, your turn. Drag your drunken asses out here to catch a bit of the bride's delicates."

Gwen cracks up as the guys assemble much in the same manner as the ladies did before. Some eagerly in front; others, like Elliot (not exactly keen on catching his sister's garter), hang to the back.

"Merlin! Best man, front and center. Mrs. Pendragon needs someone to sit on," Minstrel summons Merlin from the middle of the group of men.

Now it is Arthur's turn to laugh as he pushes Merlin down on one knee and perches Gwen on Merlin's other.

Minstrel changes the music again. An old burlesque tune called _The Stripper._

Arthur kneels down and slowly lifts the hem of her skirt, making the most of the moment. He picks up her foot, places it against his thigh, and starts running his hands up her leg, waggling his eyebrows at her.

Gwen laughs, but her insides are flipping around at the trail of fire his hands are leaving on her leg as they climb higher and higher till they reach their destination. They get to the garter, but keep climbing, pushing the skirt up further.

"Arthur!" she exclaims just as he stops exposing her leg. He leans forward and grabs the garter with his teeth, and Gwen falls backward into Merlin's chest, laughing uproariously. Merlin loses his balance slightly, but regains it before they fall.

Arthur has the garter down below Gwen's knee now. He releases it and it drops to her ankle. He removes it, kisses her knee, and stands. He gives Gwen his hand to help her up and then Merlin stands stiffly, rubbing the knee he was kneeling on as he limps back over to the crowd.

Gwen takes the handkerchief, ties it around Arthur's eyes, and leans up and kisses him, saying, "Payback time."

_I hadn't thought about that,_ Arthur thinks.

Gwen spins him and spins him, then abruptly stops, grabbing his shoulders. "Twelve," she declares.

"I feel like I'm drunk," Arthur says, then raises the garter over his head and slingshots it backward into the guys, where it hits Freya's younger brother Ethan square in the chest.

"Who caught it?" Arthur asks, removing the blindfold.

"Ethan!" Gwen says, surprised and a little relieved.

"Interesting," Arthur says quietly to her as he goes and shakes the young man's hand. Gwen gives him a hug and brings him over to introduce to Elana before they have to dance.

Minstrel is turning out to be an excellent and observant deejay, and noting that the recipients don't know each other, chooses an appropriate song. _Beyond the Sea_ by Bobby Darin.

Elana and Ethan dance shyly together, but neither of them seems unhappy. In fact, they seem to be getting on quite well.

"Boy, we're just pairing them off left and right, aren't we?" Arthur says to Gwen as they join the other two on the dance floor. He nods over to Autumn and Paul, who are stepping out on the floor. Paul holds her close, smiling down at her as she rests her head on his chest.

On their other side they see Morgana and Wayne locked together tightly but sweetly, Merlin and Freya are clinging to each other, and Elliot and Elizabeth are becoming quite cozy as well on another section of the floor.

The song ends, and Leon and Thea approach, coats in hand.

"Leaving?" Arthur asks.

"Yes, we need to get Alec home," Thea says.

"Where is he?" Gwen asks, looking around.

"Oh, Leah saw he was getting sleepy so she showed us up to your old room. He's up sleeping in your bed. We're just going up to retrieve him and take him home."

"That was very sweet, I'm glad she did that," Arthur says. They all hug and say their goodbyes.

Minstrel continues the music well into the night. Everyone dances with everyone else, it seems, and the dance floor is constantly full. Arthur even dances with Merlin at one point and Gwen with Morgana. Uther and Dr. Gaius both get an opportunity to spin Gwen around the floor, and Arthur even drags an embarrassed Leah out of the kitchen for a dance.

A wide variety is played, ranging from House of Pain's _Jump Around_ to _Anarchy in the UK_ by the Sex Pistols, during which the dance floor is filled with slam-dancing firemen and, since some of Elliot's teammates were invited, a few rugby players thrown in; to Benny Goodman's _Sing, Sing, Sing._

It becomes apparent during this last tune that Arthur has had more than a few dance lessons at some point in his life. He spins and bounces Gwen around the dance floor, but after a couple minutes it becomes clear to her that she cannot keep up, and she throws her hands up in surrender, laughing and gasping for air, and decides to go to the side and watch instead.

"Oh, come on! I need a partner!" Arthur yells, laughing as well. He looks around, arms out. He sees Irene fidgeting and biting her lip. _She wants to come dance. Wonder if she can?_ He raises his eyebrows at her, and she bites a fingernail nervously.

"Can you keep up?" he goads, grinning.

She takes a deep breath, drops her hand from her mouth and comes forward, taking Arthur's hands.

She does indeed know what she's doing.

Soon Arthur and Irene are the only ones dancing because everyone else has stopped to watch. He twirls her, lifts her, slides her on the floor between his feet; everything one would expect to see at a dance hall in the 1940s.

Everyone cheers when the song finishes, and Arthur hugs Irene. "Thanks, that was fun. Haven't done that in a long time!"

"You are very good. A little… how to say? Rusty," she teases.

"Oh!" he exclaims, laughing. "Where did you learn to dance like that?" he asks as they walk back over towards Gwen.

"I took lessons for many years in Poland. I wanted to be professional dancer," she tells him.

"Why didn't you?" Gwen asks, hearing this last bit of the conversation.

"Teachers kept telling me I was too big," she frowns.

"Too big?" Arthur asks, confused. Irene is no taller than Gwen.

"_Tłuszcz._ Um, heavy. Fat," she explains.

"That is ridiculous," Gwen says. Irene is curvy, but she certainly isn't overweight by any means.

"Is okay. I am happy here. I like working with Morgana at salon, and I can send money home to family to help out," she shrugs, smiling. "Thirsty now. Thank you for dance, Arthur," she says, leans up to kiss both his cheeks, and walks away.

"You _are_ full of surprises," Gwen says, kissing him. He wraps her in his embrace and deepens the kiss, bringing a hand up to her neck, his thumb caressing her cheek as his tongue slips between her slightly parted lips, nudging them open further for him, her own tongue sliding against his deliciously as she melts into him.


	67. Chapter 67

SUNDAY

It is past midnight and Arthur and Gwen are finally in Arthur's car, which has been lovingly decorated by Merlin and the lads with streamers and beer cans, the windows painted festively. Arthur only sighed when he saw it, mentally noting that he's going to have to get his car washed. Again.

"Are you going to tell me where we're going?" Gwen says, shifting in her seat. "Or at least if it's very far? This isn't the easiest thing to sit in, you know."

"It's not far," Arthur smiles, holding her hand in his lap, absently stroking the back of her hand with his thumb.

A short time later, he pulls up to a huge Victorian-style building and slows to a stop underneath a canopy.

"Here? Really?" Gwen asks.

"Yep," Arthur says as he the valet opens the door for him and the bellman opens Gwen's door before going to retrieve their luggage.

They walk in, Arthur's hand on the small of her back as they approach the desk.

"Welcome to The Landmark. Do you have a reservation?" the desk attendant asks. Gwen bites back a smirk at his haughty demeanor.

"Of course. Pendragon," Arthur declares, equally haughty.

"Ah, yes, Mr. and Mrs. Pendragon," the man says, peering at the computer screen. He takes a moment to look at them, noting their attire, then adds, "Congratulations."

"Thank you," Gwen says. _Somehow I doubt his sincerity,_ she thinks, again trying not to smile.

"I see you are staying with us for two nights in one of our Landmark Suites," he observes, then looks at another note. "Let me see if your room is ready," he adds, turning to pick up a phone.

_It's after midnight, why would our room not be ready?_ Gwen wonders, then another detail registers with her.

"_Two_ nights?" she turns on Arthur.

He just grins at her.

"I am expected at work Monday," she says.

"No, you're not," Arthur informs.

Gwen sighs and gives up as the desk attendant turns his attention back to them.

"Your suite is ready. Edward will show you there. Edward?"

A middle-aged man comes forward with a cart containing their luggage. "Follow me, please."

In the lift, something else occurs to Gwen. "Arthur, I haven't packed clothing for two days."

"What makes you think you're going to need any clothing?" Arthur answers casually. The bellman chokes slightly and tries to cover it up by coughing as politely as he can into his sleeve.

_He said that on purpose,_ Gwen thinks with a small giggle. A quick glance at Arthur's highly amused face confirms her suspicion.

The bellman sneaks a glance in Guinevere's direction and quickly returns face-forward, blushing. Arthur smirks.

The lift bell dings and the doors slide open. "This way," Edward leads the way to their door, which he unlocks and opens for them.

"Have to do this right, you know," Arthur says as he scoops his bride up into his arms. She laughs and puts her arm around his neck.

"Close your eyes," he tells her softly, kissing her.

"Close my eyes?"

"Yes. I will blindfold you if I have to," he threatens with a grin.

She sighs and closes her eyes, and Arthur carries her through the door and sets her on her feet in the middle of the room.

"Okay," he says, holding her shoulders.

Guinevere opens her eyes to find no fewer than fifty lit candles scattered about the suite, giving the place a warm, flickering glow. She gasps at the sight, amazed.

"Arthur, how…?" she asks, turning to look at him.

Edward clears his throat politely, having finished stowing their luggage for them. Arthur kisses Gwen quickly and walks over to him.

"Thanks, Ed, have a good night," he says, shaking the man's hand, a folded bill clasped inside.

"Good evening," Edward says, and turns to leave. He pauses at the door. Looking down, he lifts the _Privacy Please_ card and places it on the handle on the exterior side of the door before he leaves.

Arthur strolls back to Gwen, pulling his shoes off as he goes.

"Merlin." Gwen declares.

"What about him?" Arthur asks, puzzled.

"You had him alert them that we were on our way," she says, hands on her hips. Merlin, Freya, Morgana, and Wayne had been the last to leave before Arthur and Gwen, and that five-minute window would have given Merlin time to call the hotel in advance.

"Well, _yeah,_" he says, gently cupping her face in his hands. "And there's more, too," he promises before kissing her softly.

"More? Like what?" Gwen is excited and curious now, and she turns, looking around. The suite is well-appointed and sumptuous, with dark wood and beautiful décor. There is a large television in the lounge and a full kitchen.

"This suite is bigger than our flat, Arthur," she says, finally fully taking in her surroundings. She walks around, flipping her shoes off as she goes, and notices a tray on the coffee table containing chocolate-covered strawberries and chocolate truffles. Delicate leaf-shaped tuile cookies that have been artfully curled and bent to look like autumn leaves are scattered in amongst the chocolates as well. She smiles at them, and is about to walk past Arthur to investigate the bedroom, when he grabs her.

"We have two nights to explore this whole suite, Guinevere," he mutters low in her ear, his warm breath on her neck and the rumble of his voice in his chest against her back making her eyes flutter closed. He brushes his lips against her ear, flicking his tongue out against the tender skin of her earlobe.

Gwen exhales, melting backwards into him as he continues to plant soft kisses on her neck, his arms around her waist.

"This way," he says, pulling back from her and taking her hand. He starts leading her back to the bedroom area, when she stops.

"Arthur, do you think we should put some of these candles out? I'd hate to set off the fire alarm."

_Oh. Oh yeah._ He stops. "Probably a good idea," he chuckles, but he is starting to get frustrated with all the delays.

They make a quick circuit of the room, blowing out the candles. This time Gwen leads Arthur back to the bedroom, where there are still more candles.

She wraps her arms around his middle, inside his coat, and kisses his chin. Sliding her hands on his chest, she runs them up to his shoulders and eases the coat from him. She grabs it as it falls and drapes it over a nearby chair.

He reaches up and gently lifts the tiara she is still wearing out of her hair. Gwen expects him to start pulling pins to free her hair, but he leaves it. _Curious. I know he likes my hair best when it's down,_ she wonders.

She unbuttons Arthur's waistcoat, giving him small pecking kisses as she does so. That joins the suit coat on the chair and as she turns back he takes her hand and pulls her to him again. His hands slide up her back, feeling a row of tiny pearl buttons.

"Cedric, I hate you," he says, peering over her shoulder down her back.

"Arthur, the buttons are decorative," she says softly, pressing against him and reaching down to unfasten his trousers.

"What?" Her hands have distracted him and he's not sure if he heard her correctly.

"The buttons are decorative only," she explains. "If you move them you'll see they're hiding a…" she unzips his fly as she says, "zipper."

He nudges the row of buttons and finds the zipper.

"Cedric, I love you," he amends, and eases the zipper down her back as his trousers drop to the floor.

He pulls the opened dress forward, and she draws her arms out, placing them up around his shoulders, gazing up at him as she feels his hands sliding down along her torso, pushing the dress down.

Arthur helps her step out of the puddle of fabric at her feet and she starts on his shirt buttons, which actually isn't easy because now his hands are distracting her, skimming along her curves, leaving fire in their wake.

Once she gets his shirt off, he stands back to look at her. She is still a vision in white, wearing a white lace bustier with matching white thong. He feels inadequate in his boxer briefs and undershirt. And black socks.

"Well, this won't do," he says, reaching down to peel his socks off. Then he removes the undershirt. "Now," he moves toward her again, eyes taking her hungrily in. "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," he says, his hand coming to her cheek, stroking lovingly.

_He really means that,_ Gwen thinks, reaching out to place her hands against his chest, feeling his warm skin under her hands, his heart pounding against her palms. She turns her head into his hand, kissing it, enjoying the feel of his hand on her face, sliding down her neck, to her shoulder.

He closes his eyes for a moment, savoring her skin under his hands.

"Come on," he says, skimming his hand down her arm to take her hand.

"Where are we going?"

Arthur says nothing but pulls her to the bathroom, where a bubble bath is waiting, surrounded once again by candles.

"Arthur…" she says again, thinking, _When he goes all out, he really goes all out._

"After all that dancing, I thought a little soak would feel… good," he says into her neck, once again pressing his body against hers, nuzzling her while his hands grope for the fastenings on her bustier.

"It would at that," Gwen purrs, guiding his hands to the hidden clasps in the back. They are small and he fumbles with them briefly before succeeding, and he immediately slides his hands along the skin he exposes.

Arthur drops to his knees in front of her, kissing her stomach, his hands caressing her thighs as he moves them up to remove her panties. Gwen's head falls back and her hands go into his hair, her fingertips teasing his scalp. He stands, kissing his way up as he goes, pausing to pay special attention to her breasts before he is standing before her again.

Gwen slides her hands down his chest lightly, tickling, making him jump slightly as she reaches to remove his underwear, slipping her hands beneath the waistband, around to his backside, squeezing the muscles there slightly before pushing her hands down and sliding them back around to the front at the same time.

He groans as she drops his pants to the floor, her hands on his thighs. She moves one hand over to press against his already firm manhood, stroking it briefly before stepping in close to press her body against his, skin against skin.

"Guinevere…" he breathes into the top of her head. He steps into the tub, relieved to find it still piping hot, as instructed. Then he lifts Gwen and brings her into the water with him, and they sink into the warm, lavender-scented water. Arthur is wrapped around her and she nestles into him, lying sideways against him, and he bends his head to kiss her lightly.

"So this is why you didn't take my hair down," Gwen says, smiling up at him, leaning her head on his shoulder before swiveling slightly to lean back against his chest.

Arthur reaches his left hand down into the water and lifts her left hand out above the surface. He twines his fingers through hers, his palm against the back of her hand. He looks down and smiles at their ringed fingers, side by side.

"I can hardly believe it," he whispers into her ear and squeezes her with his right arm.

"Believe it, my love," she says, raising their hands to her lips and kissing the back of his hand.

"I love my ring, by the way. I really do. It's like you were reading my mind. Again."

"I'm so glad you like it. And mine… I was so surprised."

"I thought it was a good idea," he says, reaching over with his other hand to point to the wedding band that had been added. It is a simple double band, resting on either side of the engagement ring, perfectly balanced. "I told them what I wanted," he kisses her cheek, "and they showed me some designs. Then I picked the one I liked."

He holds her hand aloft, taking a good look at it perched on her slender hand. "I know it's not a terribly fancy addition, but…"

"It's perfect," she interrupts. "Anything more would have been too much. Distracting from the beauty of the original ring. It didn't need any more diamonds or fancy embellishments."

"That's what I thought," he smiles.

"It's just perfect," she repeats softly.

Gwen swishes her hands in the water, then lifts one out and idly blows some bubbles off of it. Arthur bends a knee, lifts his foot up and winds his leg around hers, sliding luxuriantly against her. She sighs and relaxes into his chest, watching the shadows dance on the wall in the flickering candlelight before letting her eyes drift closed with a sigh.

"Best day ever," she mutters.

"Agreed," he grins, kissing the top of her head. He caresses her stomach beneath the water, her skin warm under his fingers.

"I never actually thought I'd get married. After, you know…" he says quietly, resting his cheek against her head.

She smiles. "I know the feeling."

"Really?"

She lifts her head, turning to look at him. "Well, yes. After, you know…" she smiles slightly, echoing his words, "I was ready to throw in the towel. Then it was a few losers before we got lucky thanks to someone deciding to torch the insurance company across the street."

"Well, if we're to believe that book and Dr. Gaius and Merlin, it wasn't luck." He bends his head and kisses her.

"Luck, fate, whatever," she says absently between kisses.

"Either way, I am eternally grateful," he adds, his lips barely leaving hers to speak. He gently takes her shoulder and angles her further into him, pulling her sideways against his chest as his tongue slyly finds its way between her lips, which part obediently for him.

Gwen feels as if she is melting into him, her body melding to his, his tongue becoming one with hers as they meet again and again, now in her mouth, then in his, battling for dominance.

She pulls back for a moment, gasping for air, and Arthur returns his lips to her neck and his hand goes to her breast, kneading it lightly in his hand, his thumb grazing the firm nipple there, taunting it into full attention.

Guinevere sighs, leaning back into his shoulder as her hand finds him beneath the water, taking him fully into her hand, squeezing, stroking, rolling gently between her hand and her hip.

The water sloshes as Gwen attempts to shift positions, and it extinguishes a couple candles on the ledge, making her giggle a bit. The tub isn't as wide as the one at the cottage, and soon it becomes clear that there really aren't a lot of positions to which to shift. She sighs back into him, lifting her succulent full lips to his once again for another barrage of kisses.

Arthur's hand leaves her breast, and she makes the smallest whimper in the back of her throat. He smiles over her lips as his hand reaches down to touch her beneath the water. His fingers slide against her, and she makes another whimper, this time one prompted by desire rather than disappointment and he smiles again.

He moves his hand and slips a finger deep inside her, and she gasps against his lips, squeezing his manhood in response. He grunts and picks her up, turning her back to him, trying to make the most of their narrow environment.

She reaches behind and guides him to her as he eases her down over him, holding her at her waist. He slides down a bit to accommodate her better, and she holds onto the sides of the tub.

He helps her move, sliding slowly up and down on him, her head thrown back. She reaches back for him, her hand groping blindly, wanting contact with him.

"Oh…" he sighs, feeling her hand find his forearm and grip tightly. The water sloshes again, but neither take notice.

_I can't see her this way._ Arthur's hands reluctantly still her, and she makes a vague confused noise.

"I can't see you," he says gruffly, leaning her back against him. "I want to see you."

Gwen pulls slowly away, standing and turning. Arthur's breath quickens at the sight of her body slick and shiny and wet, suds clinging to her skin here and there. She holds her hand out to him and pulls him up out of the water as well, hugging him to her before they step out of the tub.

Arthur takes a warm towel from the heated rack on the wall and wraps her in it before grabbing one for himself, rubbing his body hastily with it, his eyes never leaving his bride.

Suddenly Gwen pulls him to her, her hands in his hair, bringing his head down so that she can kiss him. Arthur makes a surprised noise in the back of his throat, eyes opening wide for a moment before drifting closed again.

She moans into his mouth and starts sinking to the floor, pulling him down with her, over her, her towel falling away beneath her as Arthur eases down over her and enters her almost immediately.

It is as if no time has been lost. Arthur barely notices the hard marble floor beneath his knees; Gwen pays no mind to the towel bunching under her rear.

Arthur thrusts into her, his mind reeling and devoid of any thought but her. He opens his eyes and watches her, her dewy parted lips, her beautiful soft skin the color of cinnamon standing out against the white towel and white marble, her hair coming free of its pinnings, her half-lidded eyes dark with desire.

"Oh, God, Guinevere, I love you," he whispers hoarsely, eyes drifting closed for a moment, just feeling her body around him.

"Arthur… oh… I… love you… so much," she gasps between thrusts, her hands reaching up for him, gripping his shoulders, pulling him closer.

Eyes closed, she allows him to bombard the rest of her senses. She can feel him all around her, over her, inside her. His scent drifts down to her nose, sweet and spicy and slightly smoky. His breathing, heavy and impassioned, reaches her ears. He bends to kiss her, taking her by surprise, and she tastes him, sweet and warm and comforting, like a favorite dessert.

The assault on her senses builds to a peak and Guinevere starts to cry out, her fingers holding tight to his shoulders as she finds her release, hips jerking beneath him.

He follows immediately, driving in hard and deep, and she slides backward on the floor under the force of his thrusts. "Ohhh..." he grunts, loud and raspy, as he buries himself deeply within her one final time before collapsing over her, resting his head gently on her chest.

They lay there for several minutes on the floor, which is hard but strangely warm.

Guinevere finally speaks. "Did we just have wedding night sex on a bathroom floor?" she asks, laughing.

Arthur kisses her chest and lifts his head. "I believe that would be your fault, Love. I was perfectly content to head for the bedroom."

"And yet I don't hear you complaining."

He sits up, pulling away from her, and helps her up. "My naughty wife," he says softly, his lips on her knuckles as he kisses her hand.

Arthur bends to pull the plug to empty the tub and they walk back into the bedroom. The bed has been turned down for them, and the now-cold Guinevere climbs in immediately.

She feels a hairpin hit her shoulder, dangling from a drooping tendril, and reaches for it, freeing it and setting it on the nightstand. Arthur crawls in beside her, and scoots over as she starts feeling around on her head for more pins.

"Let me," he says, and she drops her hand. He kisses her neck again and starts gently removing hairpins, depositing them in Gwen's outstretched hand.

"Thirty-three," she declares as she tips them out onto the nightstand beside the other one. Arthur plunges his hands into her hair, massaging her scalp lightly, raking his fingers through the curls, helping them to fall free.

"Mmm, that feels really good," she says, as one more pin drops onto the blanket.

"Thirty-four," Arthur declares. "Not counting any that may be left on the bathroom floor," he adds, his hands now dropping down to massage her shoulders and neck.

Gwen opens her eyes and spies the clock. It is nearly two. "Wow, is it late," she mutters.

"Why do you think I booked us two nights?"

She laughs, "I'm sure that's not the _only_ reason." She leans back against him for a minute, then slides down to lay in the large bed.

"We have to get one of these," she says, turning to lie facing him.

"One of what?"

"A king-sized bed like this. I like all this _room._" She stretches to illustrate her point.

"Guinevere, you generally sleep pasted to my side. Why on earth do you think we need a huge bed?" he laughs.

"You don't want one?"

"Of course I do. But I just think your logic is flawed."

"Well, my love, we do more things in bed than just sleep, you know. And wouldn't a nice _big_ bed be more… fun?"

"Ah. Good point." He leans forward and kisses her nose. Her eyes are closed and she looks very tired, but there is a smile about her lips yet as she drifts off toward sleep.

Arthur quietly gets up, makes sure the rest of the candles are extinguished and climbs back into bed, where he takes his dozing wife in his arms, pulling her soft body against his.

"Goodnight, Mrs. Pendragon," he whispers.

"Goodnight, Mr. Pendragon," she mumbles back, stirring just slightly and settling into his arms before they both drop off into a contented slumber.


	68. Chapter 68

_This is the longest walk ever. My heart is pounding. The wedding wasn't even this stressful._

_ I can't do this. I can't do this. I can't do this. Yet my feet keep advancing, one in front of the other. Towards the front. No. Towards Arthur._

_ Focus on Arthur. He is there, he is waiting. My love. My husband. My_ husband. _Oh my God, it still doesn't seem real._

_ Okay, kneel. Do I look up? Do I look down? Straight ahead? He looks so handsome, so… proud? Is he proud of me?_

_ I will never get used to the way he gazes at me, the way he can make my heart pound and my knees go watery with his eyes alone._

_ "By the sacred laws vested in me, I crown you… Guinevere… Queen of Camelot."_

_ My heart is pounding. Pounding. The crown is there, heavy on my head. I will grow accustomed to its weight. I hope. _

_ Take his hands. Stand. He looks so pleased, so content, his hands so large and warm on mine._

_ I know that look. He's going to kiss me here in front of the entire kingdom. Again._

_ Is this normal? Oh, who cares, his lips are so inviting over mine, soft, warm, delicious._

_ Do not open your mouth for him. People are watching._

_ Arthur._ That _is a look I've only just recently learned, you devil._

_ "Long live the queen!"_

_ "Long live the queen!"_

_ "Long live the queen!"_

_ "Long live the queen!"_

_ It washes over me like a wave. My heart still pounds, but I feel a smile tugging at my lips._

Arthur stirs. Something is nagging at him.

_Guinevere's gift. I forgot to give her her gift!_ His eyes fly open and he looks at the clock. Six twelve. They've been sleeping for approximately four hours.

He looks over at his sleeping wife. She looks content, beautiful. There is a small smile on her face. _It can wait. I think. Okay, it can, but I can't._ He knows he won't sleep until he at least has it brought to the room, so he gently leaves the bed and tiptoes out to the lounge, where he lifts the phone and punches zero.

"Hello, Mr. Pendragon, how may I help you this morning?" a polite female voice greets him. _She is much too perky for this hour._

"Yes, I have a package being held behind the front desk. Will you send it up, please?"

"Of course. Someone will be up with it presently."

"Thank you." He hangs up the phone, then pads quietly back into the sleeping quarters to visit the loo. He puts on one of the plush bathrobes hanging in the bathroom before returning to the lounge to wait.

A short time later there is a soft knock on the door. Edward the bellman is standing there with a large box in his hands.

"You still here?" Arthur smiles at him, taking the box.

"For another hour, yes, sir," he replies. "Good morning," he adds with a nod before he turns to leave.

"Thanks." Arthur closes the door and carries the package into the lounge. He opens the cardboard flaps and lifts out the wrapped gift within. This he carries back into the bedroom and places it on the vanity table.

Satisfied, he removes the robe and climbs back into bed beside Guinevere.

"What are you up to now?" she says sleepily, her eyes still closed.

"You're awake?" he asks, thinking that maybe he can give her the present after all.

"Not really," she cuddles into the blankets and he cannot help but scoot closer to her.

"So what were you doing?" she asks again.

"I thought you were sleeping," he chuckles.

"I am also curious."

"You'll have to wake up if you want to know."

She opens one eye, and he snorts a small laugh, kisses her, and gets back out of bed to bring the present over.

"What is that?" Gwen opens both eyes and sits up, hugging the blankets around her.

"Your wedding gift. From me. I forgot all about it last night," he smiles apologetically.

"So did I," she laughs. Then, "Gimme."

Laughing, he hands her the box. It is rectangular, approximately the size of a large toaster.

"What on earth could this be?" she asks. It is heavy, and that piques her curiosity even more.

She peels back the paper to discover a hardcover leather-bound set of Tolkien's _The Lord of the Rings,_ including _The Hobbit._ It looks old, but it is in excellent condition.

"First edition," Arthur informs her.

"No…!" Gwen gasps. "This is amazing, Arthur. I love it. I…" she trails off, lifting one of the books from the case, running her hand across the embossed green leather with its gold-leaf printing. She inspects the spine, runs her fingertips across the jagged edges of the pages, uneven and bumpy, made before mass-production turned out perfect books with smooth-edged pages.

Carefully opening it, she smiles as she flips the crisp pages carefully, handling them as if they were delicate butterflies' wings.

"I don't even want to know how you got these," she smiles, shaking her head. _Not to mention how much you probably paid for them._

"I know it's not a… _conventional_ wedding present, but somehow I knew it was the right thing for you," he smiles shyly at her, watching her pore over each book in turn.

"I don't know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn't this. It's fantastic. The second best thing I've ever gotten." She smiles at him.

"Second best?" he asks.

She raises her left hand, flashing her ring at him, saying, "You." He grins broadly.

Gwen places the books back in their case and sets it on the nightstand. Arthur gathers the paper and throws it in the bin and returns to bed.

"Thank you," she says, leaning forward to kiss him. "Oh!" she pulls away suddenly, remembering. "I had another dream."

"When?" Arthur asks, scooting back down into the bed. Now that he's given her his gift, he is sleepy again.

Gwen settles down against him, into the crook of his arm, her hand on his chest. "Just now. Before I woke up and found you weren't here."

"What was it?" he asks, his hand stroking her back.

"Past me's coronation as queen."

"Cool."

"It was nerve-wracking, actually," she laughs.

"Really?"

"Well, think about it. I… _she_ was a servant who was getting crowned queen. Of course it would be stressful for her. That's a big change; a big responsibility to shoulder. Not to mention what the 'nobles' might be thinking of her or saying behind her back." She yawns, turning her face into his shoulder.

"Never thought about that. How did it go?"

"Very well, actually," she says, furrowing her brow, trying to remember. "I remember walking up a long aisle…"

She describes the dream to him, as much as she can remember.

"They kissed? Did they do that at coronations?"

"I have no idea. But it was a _good_ kiss. Past Arthur must have loved Past Guinevere a great deal."

"Present Arthur loves Present Guinevere a great deal as well," he smiles and kisses her forehead. Her eyes are closed again. "Go back to sleep," he tells her softly.

When Arthur awakes again, he is alone in the bed. He sits up, blinking. Eight forty-four. He hears water running, so he gets up to investigate. Guinevere is brushing her teeth, wearing the other dressing gown. The fluffy white robe is much too big for her and she looks like she is being swallowed by a cotton ball.

"Good morning, my love," Arthur says, strolling in and kissing her cheek.

She spits into the sink. "Good morning, Husband," she smiles at him. Gwen reaches for a glass and fills it with water. He watches as she reaches into a small medicine bag, pulls out a flat circular plastic case, pops a pill through a slot where it breaks through the foil and lands in her hand.

"Well, you won't be needing those for much longer, eh?" Arthur asks as she swallows the pill. She turns and gives him a puzzled look.

"What?"

"Now that we're married. You won't need to take those any more."

Gwen's mouth opens, but she's not sure what to say. She closes it again and turns away.

"I thought you wanted to have children," he ventures. _Should have kept your fool mouth closed, Arthur,_ he scolds himself, confused and hurt.

She turns back. "I do. Just…" she bites her lip.

"Yes?" he asks gently.

"Just not right away, Arthur."

He sits on the edge of the tub and fidgets with the belt of his robe.

"You're disappointed," she says, frowning. It is not a question; she can tell he is. She leans against the vanity and looks across at him.

"No," he says.

"Liar."

"Maybe a little. Mostly I'm just… surprised. I wasn't expecting… I guess I didn't think… I guess I thought…"

"You thought that as soon as I took your name I'd immediately want to have your children," she says, but not unkindly.

He frowns, twisting his mouth to the side. _Is that really what I thought?_ He is quiet for a moment. "I guess I did. Sexist point of view, I know. To automatically assume you'd want to get pregnant right away, I mean."

"A bit. 'Outdated' might be a better way of putting it," she smiles, and crosses to him, kneeling down in front of him. "Look, Arthur: We only met three months ago. You know how much I love you. And having your children is _definitely_ on my list of things to do, but right now I want to spend some time being us. You and me." She takes his hands in hers. "We're young, Arthur. We can afford to take the time to enjoy ourselves on our own terms, do some things that we won't be able to do once children are in the picture. Call me greedy, but I'm not ready to share you yet. Not with anyone."

He stares at her, briefly losing himself in her clear brown eyes, letting her words sink in, before speaking again. "I… never thought of it that way," he says, stroking her hands with his thumbs.

"Trust me, love, the thought of having children with you makes me smile every time it comes into my head. I just want to wait."

She sits there in front of him, waiting, giving him time. He holds her hands still in his, and he looks down at them.

_She has a point. And it's not like she doesn't want to have children ever. I just didn't consider the possibility that she might want to wait._ He looks at her face, watching him, waiting. _So patient. Wise. Generous. Kind. She's absolutely right. I feel greedy, too._

Finally he pulls her up into his lap, and sighs. "You know, you're right. We should take some time to be Arthur and Guinevere before we turn our lives upside down once again," he says, smiling. "I'm not ready to share you yet, either," he adds, kissing her neck.

"We can still get plenty of practice in during that time," she grins at him. He kisses her, but she keeps her lips locked tightly together.

"After I brush my teeth," he says, laughing.

"After you brush your teeth," she agrees, standing.

"Are you hungry?" he asks, strolling back out into the bedroom, where Gwen has flipped on the television. She is lying on the bed on her stomach, hugging a pillow under her chin, feet kicked up in the air behind her.

"Yes," she says, looking up at him, wondering what he's got in mind. _He's got that look about him again, like he has something up his sleeve._

He crosses to the phone, picks it up and dials Room Service.

"Yes, we are ready for our breakfast now."

"Thank you."

He hangs up the phone.

"What was that about?" she asks, noting he didn't give any order to them. "Did you arrange breakfast in advance?"

He nods smugly. "I told you that there were more surprises."

"So I don't get a say?"

"Not this morning," he grins down at her.

"What?" She notices his amused expression.

"That robe is way too big for you."

She giggles, and shrugs. "Not much for it, I'm afraid."

He drops on the bed next to her and rolls her onto her back, kissing her the way he wanted to a few minutes ago, lovingly, passionately. His hand slides inside the neck of her robe, touching her skin beneath.

She turns her head to the side, "Arthur," she manages. He simply begins nibbling her ear and ignores her.

"Arthur," she says again, tapping him on the shoulder.

"Mmm?" he asks, his teeth grazing along the outer shell of her ear as his hand roves lower, finding her breast beneath the robe.

She gasps, falling under his spell, arching into his hand, her own hand going into his hair. "Arthur…" she moans, no longer remembering what she was going to say.

He kisses lower, nudging the robe open with his nose, pulling at the belt with his hand, untying it and opening it fully beneath him.

Arthur rains soft wet kisses along the side of her breast, circling his way to her waiting nipple, tormenting her by kissing and licking all around it. His hand is sliding along her thigh, first on the outside, then down and back up along the inside.

She whimpers in the back of her throat and he chuckles against her skin. Finally he takes the hardened nub in his mouth, flicking his tongue across it, coaxing it firmer still, more sensitive. His hand moves higher yet and she unconsciously parts her legs for him, encouraging him.

He touches her, warm and slick, his practiced fingers pulling forth another moan from her. He smiles against her breasts and kisses down her stomach. He slides a finger into her, then out to tease the sensitive skin there, then back in again.

"Oh…" she gasps. Arthur dips his tongue into her navel on his way down, down to his destination. He grabs a pillow, lifts her rear, and sets her on it before settling between her thighs. He plunges his tongue into her and she cries out softly at the contact, bunching the sheets in her hand.

He teases her with his tongue, flicking, stroking, driving her beyond any reason. He slides it along the length of her folds, kissing, nibbling gently, thrusting his tongue deep inside.

"Yes," she moans, her hands in his hair, unconsciously pulling it as she grips it in her fists, her head tossing from side to side.

Arthur smiles against her as he pleasures her, his tongue on her moving slowly, then fast, ever changing and moving so she never knows what to expect next. He reaches up to take a breast in one hand while bringing the other down to slip inside her. His tongue delves inside one more time before he immediately replaces it with his finger, in and out as he licks at the swollen bundle of nerves nearby.

"Oh… oh…" she gasps, each one slightly louder than the next as she writhes on the bed, her body warm and tingly all over, as she feels the familiar feeling of sinking and floating simultaneously start to overtake her. Arthur is unrelenting, gleefully pushing her over the edge.

Gwen bucks beneath him, shouting out and squeezing his head between her thighs as she climaxes, spent and reeling. She releases his head, her fingers loosening on his hair as he places a line of kisses along her inner thigh, grinning like a smug feline.

Arthur crawls up along her body and kisses her again, softly, and she brings her arms around his shoulders, holding on to him.

Just then there is a knock at the door and a muffled voice. "Room service."

"Perfect timing," Arthur says, planting one final kiss on her lips before climbing off of her.

"Ah!" she exclaims, irritated. "_That's_ why I was trying to stop you!"

Arthur just laughs and starts to walk to the door.

"Arthur," she says, sitting up and closing her dressing gown.

"Hmm?"

"You may want to let me get the door, love. You're a little… um…" she looks pointedly at the bulge beneath his robe.

"Oh. Yes. That could be awkward."

"Plus your hair's a mess. Sorry 'bout that," she smiles and walks past him to the door, smoothing her hair.

There is another knock. "One moment," Gwen calls as she approaches the door. She opens it and a woman wheels in a cart with two covered plates, a teapot and a cup, and a glass of milk. There is a bud vase with a lavender rose in it in the middle of the tray.

The woman moves the tray to the table, smiles at Gwen, and turns to go.

"Thank you," Gwen says, closing the door behind her.

Arthur emerges from the bedroom, and walks to the table. "You didn't peek, did you?" he asks.

"No. But I have an idea about what's under these covers," she says, grinning.

_She's too smart sometimes,_ he thinks, figuring that she probably knows.

He lifts the covers to unveil two egg sandwiches on bagels, just like Gwen made at the flat their first morning together.

"Yep. I knew it," Gwen beams, leaning to kiss him.


	69. Chapter 69

Gwen turns on the shower. It is an amazing shower, with several showerheads all pointing different directions. She's never seen anything like it, and smiles in anticipation as she reaches her hand in to feel the temperature before stepping in.

_There's nothing worse than stepping into a spray of cold water,_ she thinks, wiggling her fingers under the water.

Humming quietly to herself, she waits a few more seconds to make sure the temperature is stabilized, and is just about to step in when she feels a pair of familiar hands snake around her waist.

"Did you honestly think you'd get to shower by yourself, Wife?"

"Not really, no."

Gwen steps into the shower, followed by Arthur, who closes the door and says, "Wow. This is some shower."

"I know, it's amazing. I could get used to this," she says, standing under the hot water, just enjoying the feel of it on her skin. "Of course then I'd take even longer than I already do," she admits.

Arthur laughs and reaches for the soap, rubbing his hands with it, getting them thoroughly sudsy. Starting at her shoulders, he starts running his soapy hands along her body, under the pretense of washing her.

"Don't think I don't know what you're really doing there, Mister," Gwen says, but she is smiling. She closes her eyes and enjoys the feel of his hands on her.

He says nothing, enjoying the slippery feel of her beneath his hands as they traverse her body. His eyes track their progress, drinking her in. He slides his hands down, circling her breasts, not large, but full and firm, almost as if they were designed to fit perfectly in his hands. Lower, across her smooth, soft, flat stomach with its naughty little navel right in the center, taunting him. He pokes his finger into it, causing Guinevere to yelp and giggle before his hands move down, following the flare of her hips, curvy and feminine and wonderful.

Arthur moves his hands around, behind her, sliding up her back, pulling her closer. His erect manhood grazes the slick skin of her stomach as she nears him, and he inhales sharply at the sensation. The proximity is too much and he plants a quick but hungry kiss on her wet lips before running his hands down her back to briefly grip her rear, round and firm and also fitting quite nicely into his hands.

He continues his progress down the back of her legs, feeling her rounded calves before sliding around up the front of her legs, long, slender and shapely. He moves them up between her firm thighs, where he languidly slides his hand up along in between them, pressing against her heated core for a moment.

"Oh…" she says, but then his hand leaves her, sliding back up her stomach, between her breasts to her neck, where he brings a hand around behind to pull her face up to his for a kiss.

Her hands land on his chest as she lifts onto her toes to press her lips to his more fully, teasing them with her tongue, nibbling them until he has had enough and crashes his lips down over hers, mouth open and hungry, leaning into her, pulling her against him.

She feels his hardness against her stomach and slides herself along it just to torture him. He breaks away from her lips and groans, lifting her in his arms.

His hands under her backside, she wraps her legs around him and he braces her against the shower wall. The cold marble hits her back and she yelps again, muttering, "Cold," between kisses.

Gwen's arms are holding on around his neck, supporting herself. Arthur adjusts his stance, and, holding on to her hips, eases her down onto him. He slides in easily, blissfully, and he moans, his head thrown back. She leans over and kisses the cords and veins straining and standing out on his muscular neck as he begins to move, pinning Gwen to the wall as he drives into her.

She rides him effortlessly, uninhibited and passionate, meeting his thrusts with her own movements, his hands digging into her thighs and hips.

He leans his head into her and kisses her neck, his lips sliding on her wet skin as her head is thrown back against the shower wall, her damp hair sticking to the surface.

"Guinevere," he groans into her neck, kissing his way up to her ear, where he takes her earlobe in his mouth, sucking on it gently, biting just hard enough to send a thrill down her abdomen.

Arthur moves faster and harder, approaching his climax quickly. Unable to hold back, he drives on, pressing her to the wall again and again until they are both gasping.

His release comes on him suddenly, and he shouts out and thrusts deep and hard, stilling for just a moment, knowing he needs to continue because Gwen is on the brink.

She is clutching his shoulders in her fists and her breathing is coming in quick rasps, and he thrusts just a few more times, bringing her over the edge, crying out with pleasure, right along with him.

"Oh, God," she sighs into his shoulder, clinging to him. He leans against her, exhausted, using the wall to help hold her.

"Yeah," he agrees.

Gently she unwinds herself from him and finds her feet beneath her. He looks at her and laughs suddenly.

"What?"

"Your hair. It's all stuck to the wall behind you. You look like Medusa."

She leans her head forward and moves away from the wall, and can feel that Arthur was telling the truth as her hair gradually drops down around her shoulders as it frees itself from the wall. She chuckles and sticks her head under the shower spray, dousing it.

Now she reaches for the soap herself and scrubs Arthur down, wisely being a bit more businesslike about it. He pretends to pout, but he knows that they need at least a small break. She does tease him here and there, paying a bit more attention to some parts than to others before washing his hair for him.

"Can I do yours?" he asks.

"Um… no. I think you'd be in over your head, if you'll pardon the expression."

"I think I could manage," he tries.

"Have you ever washed this much hair before?" she asks, her hands on her hips.

"No. But I would really like to."

She narrows her eyes at him, thinking. "If you do it as well as that braid you attempted, you're a dead man," she says, handing him the shampoo.

"Told you I could do it," he says, rubbing his head with a towel.

"Yes, yes, shut up," she teases, flicking her towel at him. He dodges and laughs.

Knowing that they're going nowhere, they both just put their robes back on. Guinevere walks past the thermostat and stops, peering at it. She frowns at it and cranks it up a couple degrees.

"Cold?" Arthur asks.

"A little. I may have to put some socks on."

"That would definitely be sexy," he teases, sitting on one of the sofas.

"That's why I turned up the thermostat."

"Come sit," he says, patting the cushion beside him.

She crosses and sits, cuddling up next to him with a contented sigh.

"Happy?" he asks.

"Very. You?"

"Immeasurably." He kisses her cheek and takes her hand, twining their fingers together. They sit quietly, absorbed in one another for several minutes, looking out the window at the trees blowing and the clouds scooting across the sky.

"So where did you learn to dance like that?" she asks out of the blue.

"Leah, if you can believe it," he laughs.

"Leah? Your father's housekeeper Leah?" she asks, turning her head to look at him.

"The same. I tended to get a little stir-crazy in winter when I was younger. A little too much energy, I guess. I would play outside in the snow, building snowmen and snow forts and going sledding until my cheeks were red. She and Father would have to drag me inside at that point, where I would fidget and misbehave and stomp around, bored silly, despite the fact that I had tons of toys at my disposal. You know how it goes." She nods, and he continues. "Then one day while Father was out I came inside and caught Leah dancing to some Glenn Miller while she was cleaning. I was intrigued, and asked her to show me. She found that dancing sufficiently wore me out, so whenever I got antsy, she would put on some music and teach me something new."

Guinevere listens, amused, picturing the skinny young Arthur she'd seen in pictures, cheeks pink from the cold air, playing in the snow and then tearing around the house. _Uther had his hands full, indeed,_ she thinks, chuckling.

"What?"

"Just picturing it," she smiles. "How old were you?"

"Um, ten? Eleven, maybe. It continued for a while, obviously. I found I actually enjoyed it, and the footwork helped with my fencing."

"That makes a certain amount of sense. Elliot was telling me that he knew a football player at university that had taken ballet to help him be more graceful on the pitch."

"Really?"

"And apparently it worked. He ended up being both a very good dancer and footballer, so none of the lads got any enjoyment from taking the mickey out of him."

Arthur laughs and asks, "Did he go pro? Do you remember his name, by chance?"

"No idea, sorry. I know you're dying to know. You'll have to ask Elliot next time you see him."

It starts to drizzle outside, and Arthur smiles, remembering the thunderstorm in the Cotswolds and the subsequent power outage. He pulls her closer, snuggling her.

"Can you teach me?"

"Teach you what?" he asks, her sudden question snapping him out of his thoughts.

"How to dance."

"Now?"

"Why not?"

"Well, I could teach you _some_ now," he angles his head to the side, considering the idea.

"Obviously I didn't mean teach me everything this afternoon, silly. But you looked like you were having so much fun with Irene, and…"

"You weren't jealous, were you?" he teases.

"At my own wedding? Certainly not," she laughs. "I simply wished I could have kept up, that's all. Maybe by Merlin and Freya's wedding we'll knock their socks off."

"If they get married," Arthur says.

"They will. Or Morgana and Wayne. Or Paul and Autumn. Whichever comes first," she laughs.

"Elliot and Elizabeth," Arthur adds, laughing as they tick off all the couples that have formed around them. "Oh! Don't forget Ethan and Elana!"

"What's with all the 'E' names?" Gwen asks, laughing.

"By the way, did you notice Paul and Autumn disappear for a while last night? I think they went outside."

She nods. "I did, and they were. Did you see when they came back and she was wearing Paul's coat?"

Arthur laughs. "It looked like she was wearing a tent!"

"I know; it was so cute."

"You don't think they…" Arthur suggests raising his eyebrows.

"Did a 'Morgana and Wayne' out in the garden? Doubtful. Snogging, definitely. Shagging, no."

Arthur snorts a laugh at Gwen's words. "You're probably right. Paul is a gentleman. Wayne is a scoundrel."

"True. But he's Morgana's problem now," she laughs. "So. Dancing?" She reminds him.

He kisses her neck. "Okay. Help me move this table." He stands and goes to the coffee table.

She grabs the other side and they move it out of the way, clearing a large area in the middle of the room. Gwen bends and picks up a chocolate covered strawberry from the tray on the table before going to join Arthur on the rug.

"Hungry?" he asks, smiling at her with the huge strawberry. It is nearly the size of a golf ball.

"Wanted to get one before they turn, and I keep forgetting," she says, sinking her teeth into the berry. It is juicy and some of the chocolate coating breaks free, and she brings a hand up quickly beneath it to catch anything that drops.

"Oh, wow, this is good," she says, her mouth full, as she offers a bite to Arthur, holding it to his lips.

He leans over and takes the rest of it, leaving her with the leafy top. She looks at it, then at him, shaking her head and chuckling as she sets the spent berry back on the tray. She grabs a napkin to wipe her hands.

"Put your shoes on," he tells her, swallowing.

"My shoes?" she asks, looking down at her feet.

"Yes. You have your heels from the wedding, right?"

"Yes."

"Go get them."

"Are you going to put shoes on as well?" she asks, stalking back to the room. _I don't want to put those damn things back on,_ she grumbles to herself as she extracts them from the bottom of the garment bag where her dress is now stashed.

"No. I don't need them. You do."

"And why is that?" she asks, returning with them in her hand.

"Because you do. It's just the rules. Plus, you're short, and it'll be better if you have a few extra inches."

Gwen stops and raises an eyebrow at him.

"What?" he says, furrowing his brow.

"Not even touching that one," she says, sitting to put her shoes on.

Slowly his words sink in and he just says, "Oh," and starts to laugh, actually blushing a little.

"Come here, you dirty-minded woman," he holds his hands out to her, and she knots the belt on her dressing gown to make sure it stays put.

"Okay," he places her left hand on his shoulder and puts his right hand on her waist. Then he holds her right hand in his left and looks down at her. "That's the easy part."

He starts with something simple, the basic Foxtrot step. Front, back, side, together. "Well, for you, it's back, front, side, together, since you have to do everything I do backwards," he explains.

"Shouldn't we have some music?" she asks, looking down at her feet.

"Not yet. And don't look down. Look at me," he says, releasing her hand to lift her chin. "Your feet aren't going to disappear."

"I have my iPod along, you know."

"Patience, my love," he says, turning slightly, changing the step.

"Hey!"

"Well, you had the hang of it, so we're moving on."

"Warn me next time."

An hour later, the drizzle has become earnest rain and Gwen's feet are sore. She's got some basic maneuvers down, and now they're hungry.

"Do I get to choose my lunch this time?" she asks, taking the shoes off and rubbing her feet. She flexes her toes and the joints crack loudly.

"Yes, you do. Let me find the menu."

Arthur gets an Angus burger and Gwen orders linguini, which is delivered by a young woman who blushes furiously at the fact that both of them are wearing only robes at nearly one in the afternoon.

"She must be new," Arthur comments after she leaves.

"Why do you say that?"

"This is a snooty hotel. The staff is supposed to be snooty as well. You know, aloof. Discreet. Snobbier than the clientele, actually. A seasoned waitress would have dutifully ignored the fact that we have clearly been doing little else than each other all day."

Gwen laughs at this. "Ridiculous policy," she declares, scooping a forkful of pasta into her mouth.

"Why do you think I was needling the bellman in the lift last night? I was trying to get a rise out of him."

"And I seem to recall that you succeeded, though at my expense," she waves her fork at him.

"Hey, the thought of you naked would drive any man to distraction, believe me."

"Oh really?" she challenges, casually raising a hand to the neck of her robe, sliding her fingers along the collar, pulling it open just slightly to expose a little shoulder and a lot of chest.

Arthur's eyes darken and he inhales slowly before taking a bite of his burger. _Let's see how far she goes with this,_ he thinks, willing himself to stay in his seat across from her.

Gwen smirks, seeing his reaction, and she leans over her plate to twirl some more pasta around her fork. Her robe shifts a little more and he is treated to more of a view. For good measure, she extends her leg beneath the small table, and slides her foot up his leg.

"Guinevere…" he says, trying to put a slight warning tone into his voice. She doesn't believe him. She picks up a single piece of linguini and holds it aloft, where she snags it with her tongue, winding it around the noodle. She lowers it into her mouth, then closes her lips around it and sucks it in. She licks the sauce from her lips, slowly, as her foot roves higher, now sliding along his inner thigh.

Arthur closes his eyes and takes a drink. His mouth is suddenly very dry for some reason.

Gwen stabs a mushroom with her fork and languidly closes her lips around it, sliding the fork slowly out. With her other hand she is slyly loosening the belt of her robe, allowing it to fall open more, exposing her breasts almost completely. Almost.

Arthur holds what's left of his burger in his hand, but he seems to have forgotten about it. When Guinevere's foot comes into contact with his erection under the table, pressing slightly, running slowly up the shaft, he groans softly and the sandwich falls from his hand back onto the plate, where it falls to pieces.

"That's it." He stands, walks the two steps to Gwen, where he pulls her chair out and lifts her, throwing her over his shoulder.


	70. Chapter 70

"Mmmm," Guinevere purrs contentedly, resting her head on Arthur's chest. She curls into his side, throwing a leg over his.

"I didn't get to finish my lunch," Arthur says, earning him a pinch. "Ow!"

"Hey, you were the one that left the table," she shrugs.

He slides his hand along her body, from her hip to her shoulder and back down again to rest on her hip, where he gives her a squeeze. "Well it was still your fault. And dinner isn't until seven," he pouts.

"So have a snack. Or go out and piece together what's left of your burger. Wait, dinner's at seven? Do we have reservations?" She sits up and looks at him.

"Yes, at the restaurant downstairs." He pulls her back down to his shoulder.

She grabs the tangle of blankets around their feet and straightens them, pulling them up over their bodies. "I didn't bring anything…" she starts.

"I brought something for you," he interrupts.

She looks up at him, wary. "What? Not the red dress; I'll freeze."

"No, it's a purple one I found in your closet. It has long sleeves. You'll have to wear your shoes from the wedding again, though."

"You do realize that those are not broken in at all and aren't the most comfortable things in the world, don't you?"

"Actually, no, I didn't. Why did you buy them if they were so uncomfortable?"

Gwen rolls her eyes. _Men._ "Well, they're really cute. And they weren't uncomfortable when I tried them on. But on longer wearing, they get pinchy."

"Oh, well, that makes it totally justified, then," he teases. She smacks his chest lightly, and he grabs her hand and kisses it.

Arthur squeezes her again, closing his eyes and sighing. _Content._

"Can we stay here, like this, forever?" he asks quietly.

"Fine with me," she says, nuzzling his chest with her nose. She adjusts her position, sliding her leg over his legs. His leg hair tickles her.

Just then there is a bright flash of lightning, followed by a loud crack of thunder. Gwen jumps in surprise, and laughs at herself.

"I hadn't noticed how dark it's gotten," Arthur observes, noting the clouds outside are very thick and dark. The rain is hammering against the windows. "If it keeps up, it'll be fun to watch during dinner. The restaurant is in the atrium downstairs. The ceiling is all glass."

"Mmm-hmm," she vaguely says, wrapping her arm around his chest, getting quite cozy.

"Are you falling asleep?" he asks, smiling down at her.

"Little bit," she mutters, and he kisses the top of her head.

He closes his own eyes, relishing her warm little body pressed up against his. His hand stills on her hip.

"Love you so much," she whispers against his chest.

Guinevere studies her reflection in the mirror. Her hair is unkempt and slightly tangled. She has no makeup on, but that doesn't really trouble her, as she doesn't always wear it. _I wish he'd told me about dinner. Now I have to improvise._ She angles her head to one side, raking her fingers through her curls, freeing the tangles. _Up it is,_ she decides with a sigh.

"Where'd you go?" a sleepy voice drifts into the bathroom.

"I'm in here, trying to make some sense out of my hair," she calls back.

"What's wrong with your hair?"

"Have you _seen_ it?"

Arthur appears in the bathroom doorway, leaning against the frame. Naked.

"It's not that bad."

"You have no objectivity," she says, rummaging through her bag for something to secure her hair with. She finds an elastic hair band, which she frowns at, but sets on the counter nevertheless.

"What about the thirty-four hairpins we extracted last night?" Arthur suggests.

She looks up. "That could help. I really don't want to have to deal with all of them, but…" She turns her head and looks at Arthur. "You're not going to dinner like that, I hope."

He pretends to ponder the possibility, then laughs. "Probably get me kicked out. And blacklisted. And then Father would kill me; he loves this place." Arthur wanders off to find some clothes.

Gwen settles on a simple braid, smoothing her hair back and braiding it elegantly down her back, secured with the elastic she found.

"Aaah…" Arthur groans from the bedroom.

"What's wrong?" she asks, walking out to find Arthur rubbing his left shoulder, his face scowling.

"Stupid shoulder. I must have overdone it or something. I was putting my shirt on and I think I pulled a muscle."

"Overdone it how?" she walks forward and kneads the muscles there for him, pushing him down on the bed so she can reach better.

"I'm not sure. Maybe between last night on the floor, this morning in the shower, dancing, and then picking you up and tossing you over my shoulder this afternoon I stressed it. I've, um, dislocated this one more than once," he admits sheepishly.

"Is that so?" she asks, surprisingly calm.

"Yeah."

She doesn't press the issue, much to his surprise, just rubs the tight muscle a minute more and bends to kiss his neck a few times before getting up and going back to the bathroom. She returns with some pills and a glass of water for him.

"Thank you," he says, taking them. She kisses him again and reaches for the dress, which she takes back to the bathroom with her.

"You look beautiful," Arthur tells her in the lift as they ride down to the restaurant. He stands close to her, his hand possessively on the small of her back, despite the fact that they are alone.

"Thank you," she says, reaching over and straightening his tie. He is wearing his grey trousers and a white shirt, a red patterned tie, and the coat from the wedding. "At least you're getting another use out of this," she says, fingering the lapel of his coat.

"That's what I figured. I bought this, you know," he says, his hand sliding up her back a little, then back down.

She looks at him. "You _bought_ the suit? Why?"

"Well, one never knows when one might need such a thing. Plus, I figured since you had to buy your dress, it was only fair. Well, and I just wanted to," he admits finally.

_That's rather sweet,_ she thinks. "Actually, my father bought the dress," she says, smiling.

"Details," he says, waving his free hand dismissively. The other is busy exploring, running down her backside, first idly, then pointedly. He gropes around, and she starts to giggle.

"Guinevere," he says quietly, just as the elevator slows, "have you got no knickers on?"

The elevator dings. As the doors slide open, Gwen shrugs and says, "I told you I didn't have enough clothing," just before she steps out of the lift and away from his grasp.

Arthur groans, looking up, and the doors almost close again before he remembers to step out.

"This is gorgeous," Gwen says, looking up at the ceiling, seeing the dark sky beyond the pointed glass peaks of the roof. As if on cue, a bolt of lightning zings horizontally across the sky, followed by a rumble of thunder. She smiles and looks at Arthur. He takes her hand, placing it on his arm, and they walk to the maitre d' stand.

They are seated at a cozy table where they have an excellent vantage of the light show nature is putting on outside. Each time the lightning flashes, they look up and smile, both reminded of their weekend.

Drinks are ordered, and they sit adjacent to each other. Arthur takes her hand in his, rubbing her knuckles with his thumb.

"How's your shoulder?" she asks.

"I'll live," he shrugs.

"When do you go back to work?"

"Well, the shift starts tomorrow at noon, but I won't be going until Tuesday. Same as you." He reaches up and tucks a stray curl behind her ear.

She sighs. "I've had too much time off."

"I know, right? I don't really want to go back."

Their drinks arrive and they place their orders. Guinevere orders the free-range chicken, Arthur chooses sea bass.

"Not steak?" she asks, surprised.

"Man can not live on steak alone, you know," he grins at her, then reaches for his glass. Unbidden, his brain drifts back to the discovery he made in the lift and he feels a slight twinge in his trousers.

"Did you order a new nameplate for your office?" he asks.

_He's got that possessive look in his eye again,_ she thinks. "Yes, it should actually be installed by the time I return, actually. I'm sure Autumn will see to it."

"Oh! Did I tell you about Dr. Gaius?" he suddenly remembers.

"What about him?" she furrows her brows.

"You are _not_ going to believe this," he says, and starts to tell her as their food arrives.

"That is _too_ weird," Gwen says, shaking her head in disbelief as she stabs a final of chicken with her fork.

"We should know better than to be surprised by any strange 'coincidences' concerning our lives, you know," he chuckles. "Clearly there are other forces at work," he adds, trying to sound spooky. Nature obliges once again by shooting off another bolt of lightning above, though the storm is dying down. Gwen laughs, loudly, and other diners turn and look.

"True," she admits, then adds, "And hey – maybe you can find out some more details about your mum this way. See what the good doctor remembers."

"There's a thought. Get a different perspective, anyway." He sets his fork down and leans back, stretching his shoulder.

"Can I interest you in any dessert tonight?" the waiter has snuck up on them.

"Would you like to share something, Love?" Arthur asks.

"Hmm. Yes. Yes, I think so."

The waiter presents a dessert menu, which Arthur hands back immediately. "Sticky toffee pudding," he declares.

"Very good," the waiter gives a nod and sidles away.

"Okay, so clearly you know something about their desserts," she chuckles.

"Just wait for it," he leans over and kisses her.

"Take your shirt of and lie down on the bed," Gwen orders once they are back in their suite. She had shed her shoes in the lift on the way up, and drops them back in the garment bag.

"Ooo, I like the sound of that," Arthur says, dropping his coat over the back of a chair. He quickly kicks out of his shoes and starts yanking his tie off as he walks to the bedroom. The twitch in his trousers reminds his brain once again about what Gwen isn't wearing beneath her dress. Guinevere follows, laughing at him.

She goes visits the bathroom for a few minutes, and returns to the bedroom in the large white robe, carrying a bottle of lotion. Arthur is waiting obediently for her on the bed, having gone beyond what is requested by way of clothing removal.

"On your stomach, genius. I'm going to work on your shoulder. And if you behave, a few other things," she grins at him and he quickly flips himself over.

She joins him on the bed, and climbs atop him, straddling his lower back, taking care to keep her robe beneath her, for now.

She squirts some of the lotion onto her hand, rubs it against the other for a moment and leans forward, sliding her hands on his shoulder, gently at first.

"Mmm," Arthur sighs as he feels her small strong hands kneading his muscles. She starts to push harder, working the sore area of his left shoulder. Her fingers find the knot and she slides them slowly across it, pressing it, trying to work it free.

"Ahhhh…" he complains.

"Sorry," she says, and backs off a bit.

"No, keep at it; that was the spot."

"You asked for it," she smiles and resumes her battle with the knot.

After a few minutes, she can feel it has loosened a bit, and decides to let it be for now. Smirking, she takes some more lotion on her hands and starts to attend the rest of his back, running her fingers down along his spine on either side, then back up further apart. She feels the contours of his muscled back, his flat shoulder blades, up to his broad shoulders, in towards his neck. He groans contentedly as he feels her thumbs press the back of his neck and slide up to the base of his skull. As her thumbs work their way back down his neck and out to his shoulders, she leans forward and takes his ear between her teeth, lightly.

Gwen distracts him with her lips and tongue at his ear while she unties the belt of her dressing gown, opening it. His eyes are still closed, but his hands at his sides start to grasp for her. He finds a knee, then slides his hand up her thigh as best he can. She still has him pinned down.

She sits back, her hands still on his back, running down its length before leaving him for just a minute to slip out of her robe. She lifts herself up just for a moment to pull it out from under her before tossing it to the floor.

"Oh…" Arthur moans as he feels her body return to straddle his back. He can feel her, moist and hot, on the small of his back, and he tries to reach his hand back to her. He can't quite reach, so he settles on her thigh, frustrated.

Guinevere leans down over him again, pressing her breasts into his back, kissing his neck now. Her tongue tickles the skin of his neck, making delicious goosebumps rise on his skin. He wriggles beneath her, longing to touch her, needing to take their combined weight off of the erect member beneath him.

She retreats slightly, dragging her breasts along his back as she grinds herself against him. He can feel the slick wetness as she slides herself on his lower back; he can hear her sigh.

"Guinevere…" he pleads, opening an eye.

"Arthur?" she leans forward and asks softly.

"You are torturing me," he croaks, squirming.

"Am I?" Her tongue snakes out and flicks into his ear.

"Yes," he declares, and makes the decision. He rolls over suddenly, catching her off guard, but she is quick enough to adjust and manages to stay straddling him, only now she is on his stomach. "There."

She smiles down at him, caressing his cheek with one hand while reaching back to grasp him in the other, eliciting another groan from him as she squeezes gently. Gwen bends down and kisses him fully, mouths open immediately, tongues meeting, still slightly sweet with the remnants of their shared dessert.

"You taste like dessert," he mutters between kisses, leaning his head up to kiss her neck a bit. She stays low over him, relishing his lips on her skin, his teeth as they nibble. His hand drifts up to grasp a breast, his thumb immediately finding her stiff nipple, playing with it idly, teasing it into a hard nub.

Gwen pulls away, gently, and swings her leg across, climbing off of him. He makes a disappointed noise in the back of his throat that abruptly turns into a moan of pleasure by the sensation of her lips on his erection.

She takes him into her mouth, grasping the base with her hand, swallowing him in as far as she can, then out. She swirls her tongue around the tip before running it along his length, up one side and down the other. Arthur's breath comes in heavy rasps, his hand gripping her shoulder, flexing, opening and closing as he struggles to maintain control.

She moves her hand, cupping him beneath as she takes him fully in her mouth again, deep, then pulling back, sucking tightly the whole way. He cries out softly, then gasps, "Oh, God, you need to stop…"

Grinning, pleased with herself and her effect on him, climbs back astride him and pulls him up into a seated position. Kneeling, she lowers herself down over him, in his lap.

Gwen swings her legs around behind him and wraps her arms around his shoulders, hugging him to her as he rocks his hips beneath her. She squeezes her eyes closed in ecstasy as she feels him bury his face in her neck, breathing her in as he moves slowly within her, prolonging the sensation.

They cling to each other for a few moments. Arthur's hands are around her back, holding her just as tightly. He moves his hands around to the front, gently easing her back away from him. He rocks his hips again, increasing his tempo as he ducks his head a little to take a breast into his mouth. Gwen arches against him, encouraging his tongue as it laves her nipple, flicking it luxuriantly, making her gasp his name.

Arthur slips a hand down between them, reaching to pleasure her with his hand as he thrusts into her, bringing her enjoyment higher, more intense. She cries out as his fingers make contact with her and start to move.

Gwen readjusts her legs, bringing them back so she is kneeling again, allowing her to move more fully over him.

"Oh…"

Arthur kisses his way across to her other breast while Gwen slides herself up and down on him, faster and harder, bringing them to the brink.

"Yes…"

His hand can't stay with her now and he gives up, reaching around to grip her backside, pushing and pulling, intensifying their movements.

"Arthur…"

"Guinevere…"

Their release comes simultaneously, and Arthur bites down on Gwen's nipple, hard but not too much so, before throwing his head back.

His growl joins Gwen's frantic gasps as her fingers dig into his shoulders. He pushes himself into her, deep, holding her tight to him, surrounding her in his embrace.

Arthur kisses her neck; a series of small delicate pecks on her soft skin, while Gwen's hands roam through his hair, the silky strands sliding between her fingers.

Their breathing returns to normal, and he lays back, bringing her with him, on top of him. She stretches her legs out on either side of him, straightening them.

"You are an amazing woman, do you know that?" he finally asks.

"Only because you make me feel amazing," she tells him, kissing his jaw. She rolls to the side, disconnecting them, and snuggles against him.

"God, I love you. I know I say it all the time, but I can't help it," he strokes her shoulder.

"I don't get tired of hearing it, trust me." She traces patterns on his chest with her finger.

"Neither do I," he says pointedly, prompting transparently.

"I love you, my husband."

"That's something else I don't think I'll get tired of hearing either, Wife," he smiles, glancing again at the ring on his finger.

Just before midnight, there is a knock at the door. Arthur turns his head sharply, saying, "Who the hell's that?" before easing away from Gwen to snatch up his robe and stalk to the door, ready to give whoever is disturbing them a piece of his mind.

"What?" he yanks the door open. It's the bellman, Edward, with a large flat box in his hands.

"Sorry, Mr. Pendragon, but this package arrived for you. The courier was adamant that it be brought up immediately," he apologizes.

Arthur looks puzzled. _No one even knows we're here,_ he puzzles, _except… Merlin._ He takes the box. It is somewhat heavy, and he turns and places it on a nearby table.

"Courier?" he wonders aloud. Then to Edward, he says, "Hold on, let me get you something for your trouble." He starts to walk to where he's left his wallet, but the bellman stops him.

"No, sir, I disturbed you and your lovely wife," he nods at Guinevere, who is standing a distance away, also in her robe, watching with interest. "Have a good night." He turns to leave, but Arthur stops him.

"Edward," he calls after him.

"Sir?"

"This 'courier.' Was he a tall, thin man, about my age, with black hair and big ears?"

Edward shakes his head. "No, sir. It was actually an old man. Fairly old, I'd say. White hair, with a squinty eye and glasses. I thought it was a bit odd, someone old like him working as a courier, honestly."

_Dr. Gaius._

"Thanks, Ed, have a good night. Er, morning."

"Good morning, Mr. Pendragon," he replies and leaves, closing the door behind him.

"What is it, Arthur?" Gwen asks, walking to where he's set the box.

"I don't know."

"Merlin must have told Dr. Gaius where we were."

"He better not have. I swore him to secrecy. In fact, I only just gave him a slip of paper with a phone number on it last night with the instructions to tell them we would be arriving soon."

"Really?" She hadn't realized that their wedding night destination was a secret.

"Yeah. I didn't want anyone disturbing us."

Just then Arthur's phone beeps, and he wheels on it like it is the devil. Eyes wide, he looks at Gwen. "We both turned our phones off in the car last night. Didn't we? I _know_ we did."

"Yes, I remember the conversation," she says, laughing nervously, remembering thinking how sweet he was being, wanting to shut out all outside influences so that they could be totally alone.

Gwen is closest to where their phones had been sent for their little time-out, and she reaches for them. "Mine is still off," she confirms before picking up Arthur's. She presses the button to turn it on, finding it is, in fact, already on and has a new text message. Glancing at Arthur, she swipes her finger across the screen and reads the text.

_Open it, Clotpole._

Gwen sighs, relieved actually, and shows him the message.

"Damn his eyes," he mutters, smirking in irritation at his suddenly-mysterious best friend.

_You told_ he sends back before he gingerly starts to open the box.

"I don't think he's sent us a bomb or Anthrax or anything, Arthur, just open it."

Arthur lifts the lid, quicker now, and sees a long broadsword sitting atop a piece of red material. He lifts it out, admiring it. It is a beautiful sword, with gold runes engraved on the blade, the leather-wrapped handle fitting perfectly into his hand.

"Wow. What is this?" he asks, then quickly adds, "And don't say 'It's a sword,' because I can clearly see that." He holds the sword, swishing it experimentally in the air a few times. _It feels like it's a part of my own arm,_ he thinks, a bit spooked by the thought.

She laughs, stepping closer to run her fingers along the blade. "Sharp," she observes.

_Beep._

_ I most certainly did not. I promise._ Gwen reads the text to him, he smirks again, skeptical.

"Merlin has some explaining to do," she adds, lifting the red cloth from the box. It is heavy, rough and thick. And large. She brings it to the large table in the lounge.

Arthur picks up his phone. _How the hell did you turn my on phone?_ He taps into the phone, frustrated.

Guinevere unfolds it to reveal an exquisite tapestry, mostly red, with a large gold dragon in the center, near the top. It is old. Very old. Ancient, in fact.

She studies the tapestry. Beneath the dragon is a large, ornate tree, with names by the branches. _Uther. Ygraine. Arthur. Guinevere._ Other names. _Morgana. Morgause. Gorlois. Agravaine._ Its branches spread wide, with names everywhere, some clearly having been added as the years wore on, their threads newer and colors more vibrant. Some of the newest-looking names even appear to have been stitched by a different hand.

Her gaze drifts lower still, pulling the tapestry further up the table. At the very bottom is the image of a round table, and more names. _Arthur. Merlin. Leon. Percival. Elyan. Gwaine. Lancelot._ Beneath those, _Bedivere. Bors. Kay…_ The list goes on.

A final detail catches her eye, in the lower right corner, in gold thread. Two letters: _G.P._

"Holy crap," she says. Arthur laughs a little at her exclamation and looks in her direction to see her head bent over the tapestry with her hand over her mouth, eyes wide. He sets the sword down in the box and walks over. He puts his arm around her.

_Beep._

_ Wizard._ Arthur rolls his eyes, but something in his gut tells him that Merlin isn't joking this time.

"Um, yeah," he agrees. "Merlin has some explaining to do, indeed."

She touches the dragon gently, feeling the texture of the stitching beneath her fingertips. _It does feel eerily familiar…_

_ Beep._ A different number, one he doesn't recognize. Gaius', perhaps?

_You're welcome._

Arthur has had enough mysteries, and sighs, pulling her into his arms for a hug.

"We'll think about this in the morning," he says, exhausted. He turns his phone off again with a puzzled sigh, and they walk back to the bedroom.

All the candles in the room are once again lit.


	71. Epilogue

SATURDAY, 10 YEARS LATER

"Well everyone's finally dressed," Arthur says, walking into the kitchen. Guinevere is puttering at the counter, preparing things for breakfast.

"You say that like you've an army to dress." She turns and looks at him. "Honestly, Arthur, why does it take you three times as long as it does me to dress two boys?"

"They _squirm,_" he complains.

"You do realize that Simon is old enough to dress himself, don't you?"

"Well, he certainly had no problem with me doing it for him. And he wasn't the problem. Ian kept running away."

She turns back to the counter with a shrug. "Yeah, he'll do that. If you let him."

He walks up to her and squeezes her around the middle, planting a kiss on her neck. She leans back into him for a moment, then wrinkles her nose, making a face.

"What's wrong?" Arthur asks, releasing her.

"I think this coffee is off. It smells bad. How old is it?"

"It's brand new." He sniffs. "And it smells fine," he answers, puzzled.

Gwen moves to pick up a pile of dishes, saying, "Well, you do it, then. I'll go set the table." She walks out.

"Guinevere…" Arthur calls after her.

"Arthur…" she calls back, mimicking his tone.

"Father's going to know that I made his coffee and not you, you know."

"Well, he'll have to deal with your inferior coffee-making skills. The smell of it is making me sick today."

Arthur scowls. _She can explain that to him, then._

"Simon! Ian! Time to come down! Your grandfathers will be here soon!" Gwen shouts to the upstairs rooms.

Arthur sighs and looks at the pot. "Where's that hazelnut stuff?" he calls out.

"It's right in front of you, Arthur!" Gwen calls as she walks into the dining room, pausing near the dragon tapestry hanging on the wall. There is a smudge on the glass case that houses it, so she reaches up and wipes it away with the corner of a napkin.

Arthur is just about to add the hazelnut syrup to his father's coffee when his two sons come shuffling into the kitchen, followed by their mother.

Simon is holding Ian's hand. Ian is holding a battered-looking stuffed donkey. Simon is a miniature Arthur if Arthur had a tan and curlier hair; Ian is a miniature Simon with his mother's brown eyes.

"Can we help?" Simon asks.

"Of course, Monkey," Gwen answers. "Would you like to help me set the table?"

"No. I want to help Daddy make Granddad's coffee."

"All right then, come on," Arthur holds his hand out to the five-year-old, who drops his brother's hand, abandoning him for his father.

"Mummy," Ian reaches out for her, and she picks him up, kissing his soft cheek.

"Would _you_ like to help me set the table?" she asks. He nods, and she takes him to the dining room. "You'll have to set Neville down," she tells him, bending so he can place his donkey on a chair.

"Okay, we need napkins…"

The doorbell chimes, and the boys abandon their parents, shouting, "Papa! Granddad!" as they go answer the door and physically assault their grandfathers.

Arthur is just finishing his father's coffee, when Guinevere's words hit him square in the forehead.

_The smell of it is making me sick today._

Arthur's eyes widen as he leaves the coffee and practically sprints to the dining room. He stops in the doorway for a moment, watching her. Gwen straightens the napkins that the two-year-old has haphazardly placed, then pauses, yawning. Even after two children, she is still slender and petite, but her curves now have a womanly look to them that Arthur finds he really enjoys. He walks to her and takes her in his arms, pulling her to him for a passionate kiss, leaning her back slightly as he coaxes her lips apart with his inquisitive tongue. She brings her arms around his neck, a napkin still clutched in one hand.

"What was that for?" she asks, dazed, when he finally releases her.

"For you thinking the coffee smelled off."

"What on earth are you talking about, Arthur?"

"Do you remember the last time your sense of smell went all wonky? You couldn't stand the smell of coffee. Or cinnamon. The last _two_ times this happened?" He raises his eyebrows at her, face questioning, prompting.

Guinevere furrows her brow, thinking. Arthur caresses her cheek, watching her do the math in her head. She blinks a few times, then smiles. He drops his hand down to rest on her stomach, where she puts her hand over his.

"Maybe this time it will be a girl."

END

(sorry)

**Special thanks must be extended to ElegantPaws, without whom this story would not have grown into the magnum opus it did. Thank you, my lovely, for the advice and gentle shoves you gave. They pushed me to write things of which I didn't think myself capable.**

**Thanks also to dear Hanihana, who suggested I write an AU Arwen fic in the first place.**


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